Bloom 2, Where the Predators Prowl: [Ch 11-19] (Patreon)

11: The Well of Severance

For a moment, neither of us spoke, just silently staring at each other. The ambient chatter of the refectory seemed to fade into background noise as I tried to process this unexpected encounter. The singer whose voice had provided the soundtrack to my journey to Ferguson was sitting across from me, wearing the same orange robes as a temple volunteer.

I found myself staring into those blue eyes, and something inside my chest tightened—not with pain, but with a sensation I couldn't pin a name to. It was like looking into perfectly still water that reflected not just light, but somehow captured the essence of every happy moment I'd never experienced… Some other, non-existent lifetime in which I actually had a reason to smile. 

My breathing slowed, my pulse quickened, and for the first time in months, the constant ache in my busted up body seemed to fade away fully.

It was as if I wasn’t staring at the eyes of a pretty girl, but was looking at the edge of reality itself, at a goddess who could move the world with her voice. 

Foreign, alien memories, dreams and thoughts stirred within me like branches of an endless tree, wiggling and unfolding themselves into my head.

Black and white tiles stretching into the infinite horizon. Blood. Dead bodies. The Magnetic Lynx looming over me. Me, cradling her in my arms. A silver RV with a tree growing inside it. Her music playing in a loop, a playlist that kept me going even when she was gone, even when I had lost the perfect, sweetest, most devoted prad girl in the unive…

I blinked away the intrusive thoughts.

"Ah. You're the strange human boy from the quad earlier," she said, her voice carrying that same musical quality I'd heard in the video, though now it seemed muted somehow, like a song played through thick glass.

"Yeah," I managed, finding my voice. "Alec Foster. I, uh... I saw your video. Your song. It was incredible. I…"

I considered asking her out then and there. To hell with orange robes, to hell with the fact that we were sitting in a temple where feelings and relationships weren’t permitted. Nothing mattered at that moment, nothing but her.

And yet… I stopped myself before I could say anything. Something was wrong. She didn’t seem to share my exuberance at meeting up close.

Her expression didn't change at my words—there was no smile, no spark of pleasure at the compliment. She simply nodded and began eating methodically, as if my words had been about the weather.

"How did you come up with those lyrics? About rising from ashes, not letting darkness be your master?" I asked, trying to get a conversation going.

Nessy paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth, and for just a moment something flickered behind those blue eyes—confusion? But it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

"I dunno,” she shrugged.

The way she said it, so flat and detached, made me wonder if I was losing my mind. I'd watched that video multiple times, listened to her voice, been moved by the lyrics. But looking at her now, sitting across from me with all the warmth of a beautiful statue, I began to doubt myself.

“You don’t know?” I blinked. “But… they felt so personal so…”

“I let songs out into the wild and then forget about them,” she shrugged. “If it made you smile, then I am glad. I'll probably delete it later.”

“Delete it?!” I stemmed out. “Why?!”

“I sing to release stress,” she shrugged. “Now that it's released, the song has no purpose.”

She wasn’t even looking at me when she was talking. 

Did the damned claim by those biker beerches fuck up my only chance with this girl? Did she hate me because I was magically and physically claimed by another, sniff Adler on me?

All of my ideal introductions, all of my prepared words fell apart at her despondent, disinterested expression.

"Um. So, what brings you to the temple?" I asked, changing the subject.

She set down her spoon and met my gaze directly. 

"I… volunteer here part-time. Help prep the meals for both humans and prads—we need different nutritional balances, you know. Plus the meditation helps with... my condition."

"Condition?"

Nessy was quiet for a long moment, her fingers distractedly playing with her wooden beads. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, yet concerningly dull.

"Wanderlust dreams. They’ve haunted me since I was a little pup. Every night, I dream of another place, another time. There's this person..." She trailed off, making an embarrassed face. "Slayer, this sounds pretty stupid when I say it out loud."

"It doesn't," I said gently. "Trust me, you can’t beat my day in the embarrassment department."

"In my dreams, there's this.... person? A boy? Not from this world, I think. We talk, we laugh, we..." She contemplated. "Do stuff? I write music for him. Basically… I'm in love with someone who doesn't exist except in my head.”

“What does he look like?”

“No idea,” she shrugged. “It’s probably a dungeon curse, passed down from my mom who was a delver when she was young. To put it plainly, it’s… Unwanted attachments. Feelings for someone who doesn't exist. The temple performs cleansing rituals that help remove such unhealthy desires."

"Someone who doesn't exist?"

"A recurring dream, you could say. Someone I've been... drawn to since I was young. The sisters here help devotees overcome such meaningless obsessions." Her voice carried a clinical detachment that somehow made her words sharp like blades.

We finished eating in relative silence. When Nessy stood to leave, I found myself following, drawn by something I couldn't understand or resist.

“Yes?” She asked, turning around. 

“Can you show me… how they help you here?” I asked. “Is it a ritual? An Artifact?”

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes. “Follow.”

She led me through a side door into the temple's central garden, the stars twinkling overhead between a curtain of clouds. At the center of the space sat a large, circular stone well, its depths lost in shadow. Carved runes spiraled down its inner walls, glowing faintly with soft blue light, and stretched outward within flat stones laying across the entire courtyard.

"This is where the cleansing happens," Nessy said, approaching the well's edge. "The Well of Severance. It consumes unwanted desires, unhealthy attachments. Removes love that serves no purpose, takes away the pain of loss."

I stared into the depths, feeling simultaneously drawn to and repelled by whatever lay below. The runes pulsed with hypnotic rhythm, and I could swear I heard something like whispered voices rising from the darkness. A spiral of something moved within its depths like a silver-violet galactic constellation.

"It's beautiful," I said. But there was something else—a wrongness that made my skin crawl. "And terrible."

"Beauty often is," Nessy replied, her voice distant. “The well removes memories of attachments, freeing your mind, body and soul.”

I could barely believe her words. Was her music really an unwanted attachment, a curse? Her song was so beautiful, perfect, filled with so much passion and meaning.

“Nessy, do you really want to let your songs go like that? Forget them after you sang them? It just seems so wrong to me,” I pulled out my phone, navigating to her Pradstagram video. "Look, I want to show you—"

“Stop.” She swatted at the device, her movement sharp and defensive. "Whatever meaningless content you wish to showcase, I do not wish to see it and it is against the rules. I'm here to be cleansed of such frivolities."

"But what if..." I hesitated, studying her face lit up by crystalline lanterns swaying in the late evening wind. "What if the person you've been dreaming about isn't meaningless? What if they're… real? What if your songs hold greater meaning? What if…"

For the first time since sitting across from me at dinner, Nessy's mask slipped. Then she laughed—a hollow and brittle sound.

"Real?" She shook her head. "Why are you defending my dreams, novitiate? Love isn't real. It's just chemicals and delusion. Meaningless attachments. The Temple helps me see that clearly. I don’t wish to think about your ‘what ifs'. Good day.”

She turned around, black and white tail swishing and was gone before I could say anything else.

I simply stood there. My eyes drifted to the well. My fingers opened and closed. 

No, no, no.

I just found her! I just found her and she didn’t even recognize me, didn’t…

I blinked. Why was she supposed to recognize me? Why was I so obsessed with this prad husky girl? What was so different about her that made my heart stop in the presence of her eyes?

Bile and absolute hatred rose in my chest. 

The well had to die. It had to be destroyed. It was keeping us apart, not letting her feel things.

I was pulled from my dark thoughts by footsteps on the garden path. 

Sister Zheniya approached, her blue eyes shimmering with magic and reflecting the well's ethereal glow. 

"Novitiate Foster," she said. "I sense darkness in your thoughts. The night air carries the scent of... unease and turbulence stirring within you."

“Urm,” I turned from the well, trying to compose myself. "I'm… Just thinking."

"Thinking can be dangerous, binding into a loop, when the heart is not at peace." Her prayer beads clicked as she moved closer. "There is a lot of anger in you, novitiate. Rage that burns like fire. If you wish to remain within these sacred walls, you must learn to purge such poison from your soul."

I sighed. “You can’t really help me though.”

“You must learn to help yourself,” she said. “Then we can help you.”

I squinted at her.

"Can you tell me about novitiate Nessy Whitepaw?" I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Sister Zheniya's ears pricked forward, her expression growing more serious. "Ah. Novitiate Whitepaw." She paused, studying my expression. "She is troubled with a powerful curse, one that has plagued her since childhood. The temple offers her salvation from... unwanted attachments manifested by her Astral parasite."

"But what if they're not unwanted? What if they're not from a parasite—" My lips spoke.

"Novitiate Whitepaw is of age, she is quite capable of deciding her own future. Between reality and illusory dreams she has chosen reality. She will join our order fully upon her graduation," Zheniya continued, her voice taking on the cadence of someone reciting established doctrine. "She will be elevated to full monk status and become a great and noble community leader. According to our Seers, her destiny is already written in the stars—in time, she will become a revered guru who will inspire many and bring countless followers to our path. Her mantras, empowered by her Riffweld skill, will enrich the lives of multitudes, turn many away from darkness and save their souls."

Each word hit me like a physical blow. 

I felt something twist in my chest, a sensation like claws raking across my heart.

"Her destiny is already decided then?" I asked.

"Indeed. The stars have spoken. The well will free from her burdens and she will work hard to become one of our greatest teachers." Zheniya's expression softened slightly. "I can see this troubles you, Alec Foster. You must meditate on these feelings. Understand the root of your anger and trim it from your soul like dead branches from a tree."

I nodded stiffly, not trusting myself to speak any further.

"Go now. Rest. Meditate, seek clarity of mind,” Zheniya advised.

I nodded, departing.

12: Firestorm

I made my way back to my small room, my thoughts churning like a storm-tossed sea. Once inside, I sat cross-legged on the narrow bed and tried to follow Zheniya's advice. I closed my eyes and turned my awareness inward, seeking the source of the rage that burned in my chest.

What I found terrified me.

Beneath the surface of my consciousness lay an ocean of fury—vast, dark, and completely alien to anything I'd ever experienced. It wasn't just anger; it was possessive, consuming, absolute. 

I wanted to tear down the temple stone by stone. I wanted to destroy the Well of Severance, to watch its hypnotic hexagram lights die and its whispered voices fall silent. I needed to scatter the ghosts trapped within to the wind, to give back what it had taken, to return pain and love for all those who had given them up. I wanted to take Nessy away from this place, to protect her from their "cleansing" and their predetermined destiny.

But most disturbing of all was the pure, absolute certainty that echoed through my endless tree-branches like a firestorm: She's mine. My angel. My sunshine. Mine, not theirs.

The intensity of these feelings and deep background thoughts made no sense. 

I'd never met Nessy before today. We'd barely exchanged a dozen words. Yet something deep inside me reacted to her presence likely... like I'd been searching for her my entire life and had finally found her again and would not let go of her… because she saved me, she saved all of…

I opened my eyes, shaken. My hands were trembling. 

What the hell was happening? What was going on with me? 

The more I thought about Nessy, the more I wanted, needed her in my life.

Fuck this place and fuck being detached from my feelings.

Pulling out my phone, I navigated back to Nessy's video. Her voice filled the small room, soft and haunting:

"Beaten down but never broken,

Rising from the ashes, spoken

Words that heal and guide your way,

Sunlight breaks before the day.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks before I realized I was crying. The song felt like a message meant specifically for me, like she'd written it knowing exactly what I would need to hear today. But that was impossible. She'd posted it before we'd ever met, and when I'd mentioned it at dinner, she'd acted like it meant nothing to her.

Nothing made sense.

I wiped my eyes and opened Pradstagram, scrolling to Kristi's contact. It was 9pm, so the raptor was probably still awake. Maybe talking to her would distract me from my inexplicable Nessy-related madness.

The app showed that Kristi was online, and I could see the typing indicator appearing and disappearing as if she was struggling to compose a message now that I was online. Her username was cute and space-y. 

[Alecai🌲]: Sup?

I wrote. The typing indicator vanished for a moment, then reappeared.

[✨Stellaris]: Sup? How's the temple life treating you? Are you a full-time monk now, free from being murderized tomorrow at Advenced Delvery?

[Alecai🌲]: I wish. No, I really don't fit here.

[✨Stellaris]: y? :∆

I stared at the screen, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. How could I explain what I was feeling without sounding completely insane?

[Alecai🌲]: I want to destroy this place.

[✨Stellaris]: y???

I paused for a minute. 

I closed my eyes and let my fingers type the answer, letting go of everything except for my innermost desire. When I opened my eyes the words on the screen were inescapable, solid. I pressed enter, sending the message, deciding to go all in. Kristi seemed like an understanding person, maybe she could offer me some advice for how to handle these feelings.

[Alecai🌲]: I think that I am in love.

The typing indicator appeared and disappeared several times. I could imagine Kristi on the other end, probably staring at her phone in disbelief, typing and deleting responses.

[✨Stellaris]: . . .

More typing and deleting. Finally:

[✨Stellaris]: With whom exactly? 👀

[Alecai🌲]: A girl at the temple. Nessy Whitepaw.

[✨Stellaris]:  . . .

[✨Stellaris]:  What. When did this happen?

[Alecai🌲]: Today when I met her. Maybe yesterday, when I saw her music online.

Another long pause with intermittent typing.

[✨Stellaris]: Dude you literally just met her today 😂 How can you be in love already?

[Alecai🌲]: I know how it sounds, but that’s how I feel.

[✨Stellaris]: Do you tho? Because it sounds like you've lost your damn mind. Not that you were making amazing decisions before. Are you sure you're not just... I dunno... confused about your feelings?

I frowned at the screen. There was something odd about her phrasing.

[Alecai🌲]: Confused how?

[✨Stellaris]: Well... I mean... today was pretty intense. Lot of stuff happened. Maybe you're just... mixing up your feelings? About different people?

[Alecai🌲]: What do you mean?

[✨Stellaris]: I'm just saying... sometimes when we're traumatized or whatever, our brains can get wires crossed. Like maybe you think you're feeling something for one person when really it's about someone else entirely?

I stared at the screen, trying to parse what she was getting at. 

[Alecai🌲]: Kristi, just say what you mean. 

[✨Stellaris]: I'm just wondering if maybe... I dunno... you might be confusing your feelings about Nessy with feelings about... someone else?

[Alecai🌲]: Like who?

Another long pause. Then:

[✨Stellaris]: Like... maybe someone who actually spent the day taking care of you? Someone who bought you food and brought you to the nurse and listened to your problems?

My eyes widened as I finally understood what she was implying.

[Alecai🌲]: Kristi... do you think I have feelings for you?

[✨Stellaris]: I'm just saying! It would make more sense than falling head over heels for some random dumb dog! 😅

Random, dumb dog? What? There was that fire again, burning within me. A thousand branches swaying angrily.

[Alecai🌲]: She’s not a random dog. I wish she was, but she’s REALLY not. 

[✨Stellaris]: Ugh. Wait. Did you hear her music live at the quad? 

[Alecai🌲]: I heard her strumming her guitar today, yes.

[✨Stellaris]: Ah! Okay, now it all makes sense. She’s a powerful Charmchain Charisma Bard, dude. That Riffweld skill of hers, it makes idiots fall in love with her music. Especially low level idiots. 👀 You’ve no idea how many idiots tried to date her because they heard her sing live once. She rejected them all though, like a foldknob. Would have already had a BF if she wasn’t so obsessed with some imaginary bullshit perfect princeling.

[Alecai🌲]: Did you just call me an idiot?

[✨Stellaris]: You are an idiot if you let Riffweld magic control your feels, yes. It’s just magic, it’s not real feelings. Let it go, forget about it, a jerk like her ain’t ever gonna date you. Obsessing over a Bard delver ain’t gonna solve any of your maaany problems.

[Alecai🌲]: How is she a jerk? She seemed nice if a bit lost.

[✨Stellaris]: . . .

More typing and deleting. Finally the message arrived after a few minutes of flapping.

[✨Stellaris]: She got me when I was in grade eight and our family moved to Ferguson since some asshat almost succeeded at assassinating dad with a dungeon-made artifact.

[✨Stellaris]: I listened to her music and totally fell claws over head for that shit, and asked her out. 

[Alecai🌲]: You asked her out?

[✨Stellaris]: Har har, laugh it up. Yes. I asked her out. She said that she’ll think about it and then totally stopped talking to me, acted like our conversation didn’t fucking happen. Massive b-move. 

[✨Stellaris]: who even does that? And the next day, she went and composed more music about this boy from another place and time and a crystal tree growing in the Superstore or someshit. Like she wanted to fuck with me further. At least she told others ‘no’ right away to their faces. I didn’t even get the courtesy of that. Fuck her! 

[✨Stellaris]: There. One rant. Happy? You better not be laughing at me over there, cus if you are I will claw your face off tomorrow.

[Alecai🌲]: I'm not laughing, Kris. That sounds really crummy.

[✨Stellaris]: It was. Especially since I thought we had a real connection when we talked about delving strategies after her performance. But apparently I was just another idiot under her spell.

[Alecai🌲]: When did this happen?

[✨Stellaris]: Four years ago. We were both fourteen. 

[✨Stellaris]: you don't just ignore someone after they ask you out! Common courtesy says you give them an actual answer!

I stared at the screen, processing this information. So Kristi had a history with Nessy, which explained her defensive reaction and name-calling. But something about her story bothered me.

[Alecai🌲]: Wait. She was fourteen when you asked her out?

[✨Stellaris]: Yeah? So?

[Alecai🌲]: Isn't that... pretty young to be dealing with romantic proposals? Maybe she was just confused or scared?

[✨Stellaris]: Oh please. Fourteen is old enough to know how to say no. She managed to do it to everyone else. Half of the school hates her cus she can’t manage her dumb Riffweld.

[Alecai🌲]: She told you she'd think about it. Maybe she was being honest and did think about it, but then got scared or didn't know how to bring it up again?

The typing indicator appeared and disappeared several times.

[✨Stellaris]: Are you seriously defending her right now?

[Alecai🌲]: I'm just saying maybe there's more to the story than what it looked like from your perspective.

[✨Stellaris]: Unbelievable. You listen to one song and you're already taking her side over mine.

[Alecai🌲]: I'm not taking sides. I'm just trying to understand.

[✨Stellaris]: Understand what? That you're under a fucking spell? Because that's literally what's happening here, Alec. Riffweld magic fucks with people's emotions. What you're feeling isn't real!

I stared at the message, anger flaring in my chest again. The suggestion that my feelings weren't real, that they were just some magical manipulation, made something vast inside me recoil violently.

[Alecai🌲]: How do you know what's real and what isn't?

[✨Stellaris]: Because I've BEEN where you are four years ago! I know what it feels like to be under her influence! Trust me, you'll get over it in a few days once the magic wears off.

[Alecai🌲]: And if I don't?

[✨Stellaris]: Then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought.

I set the phone down, my hands shaking slightly. Part of me knew Kristi was probably right—the logical part that recognized how insane it was to feel so strongly about someone I'd just met. But a larger part, the part connected to those alien tree-branch thoughts and foreign memories, rejected her explanation completely.

This wasn't just magical influence. This was something deeper, more fundamental. Something that felt like recognition rather than attraction. I felt things for Nessy when I heard her song over my car speakers. Magic skills didn’t translate like that, spells didn’t affect people when they were played through mundane tech. Charisma magic that made people surrender and fall to their knees didn’t work over television.

Now, how could I explain that without sounding completely insane?

I picked up the phone again.

[Alecai🌲]: What if it's not just the Riffweld magic? What if there's something else going on?

[✨Stellaris]: Like what?

[Alecai🌲]: I don't know. But when I look at her, it's like... like I remember things that haven't happened yet. Or maybe things that happened in another life? It sounds crazy, I know, but—

[✨Stellaris]: It sounds crazy because it IS crazy. Slayer, Alec! Think!

[Alecai🌲]: I know how it sounds. But what if past lives are real? What if we knew each other before?

[✨Stellaris]: Past lives? PAST LIVES? Now you sound like one of those crystal-sniffing hippies at that stupid temple!

[Alecai🌲]: Nessy has dreams about someone from another world. What if that someone is me?

[✨Stellaris]: Oh for fuck's sake.🙄

[✨Stellaris]: Alec, you need to snap out of this. You're driving me nuts. This isn't healthy.

[Alecai🌲]: I'm fine. I just want to tear down the temple’s magic well, that’s all.

[✨Stellaris]: WHY??!!! 

[Alecai🌲]: Because it’s taken something from her. Maybe that’s why she didn’t answer you… because the well removed her memory of your conversation.

[✨Stellaris]: WTF. 😒 And here I thought that humans were chill and that you’re a calm, rational human. You're talking about destroying a Krishna temple because some girl doesn't remember your imaginary past life together! That's not fine, that's fucking unhinged! You're behaving like a prad in cycle!

[✨Stellaris]: Alec, you need help. Real help, not whatever you're doing right now. Maybe you should listen to your own advice and sign up for a therapist at school. I think it’s covered as long as you tell them you’re having thoughts of destroying stuff, so even your poor ass will be able to afford it.

[Alecai🌲]: I need to talk to her again. I need to free her from what the temple is doing to her.

[✨Stellaris]: NO. Absolutely not. You need to stay away from her before you do something you'll regret.

[Alecai🌲]: Like what?

[✨Stellaris]: Like stalking her! Or worse! Do you have any idea how you sound right now? "She must remember our past life together, I need to make her understand"—that's literally crazy stalker talking points!

The accusation hit me like a physical blow. Was that what this was? Was I turning into some obsessed creep who couldn't take no for an answer?

[Alecai🌲]: I'm not a stalker.

[✨Stellaris]: Then prove it. Stay away from her. Give yourself some distance from her Riffweld.

[Alecai🌲]: And if I can't?

[✨Stellaris]: Then I’ll drag you to therapy myself. By force, if I have to. 😖 Slayer! I should have asked the nurse to check your head for Astral Charmchain hooks. 

[Alecai🌲]: And if she doesn’t find any?

[✨Stellaris]: . . .

[✨Stellaris]: You should still get some therapy. You’re in a bad place and it’s causing you to act in insane ways. Don’t obsess over that dumb husky, dude. Get some sleep.

[Alecai🌲]: I’ll sleep when I’m dead.

[✨Stellaris]: Ughhh. Why are you like this? 

[✨Stellaris]: How about a deal? You go to sleep right now and I’ll pick you up tomorrow and buy you armor tomorrow from one of the delver shops in town? It might be iffy since you won’t have time or the skills to properly Bind it to your soul, but it’ll be better than the low end shit the school provides. Just forget about the dog, focus on surviving your curriculum, you knob!

13: Moonlit Harvest

I thought about Kristi's offer, and why she was being so generous. As nice as it sounded, I didn’t want to be financially indebted to the Strand family. This was how the mafia families got people on perpetual contracts, tempted delvers with nice weapons and armor and then outright owned someone contractually, and legally put a collar on them.

I thought about my awful day and my options.

Then Adler and Donutz's words echoed in my mind—something about their mark funneling mana to me.

I pulled up my stats, expecting to see the same pathetic numbers as always.

| Name: Alec Benoit Foster

| Species: Human
| Level: 3
| Core Affinity: Reconstitution
| Health: 71/100%
| Reconstitution: 1/100%
| Depictomancy: 24/100%
| Syntropic Fusion: 32/100% 

WHAT?!

I stared at the numbers in shock. My Reconstitution had gone up 1%. Depictomancy had jumped from 4%! Syntropic Fusion had nearly doubled! 

Holy shit. 

Donutz's binding loop was actually working—it was funneling mana to me from their higher level pack, making my skills reload faster than they ever had in my entire life. In one day, I'd gained more skill percentage than I usually did in months.

The realization hit me like a sledgehammer. As much as I hated to admit it, the bikers' claim mark was helping me. For the first time in my life, my skills were actually reloading!

One percent. An anchor, a bridge to keep me from death. With one percent I could be killed and still wake up. Yes I'd be a living corpse basically, but still it was better than the pure absolute nothingness of not being alive.

I looked back at my phone, at Kristi's offer of shop-bought armor, and typed my response:

[Alecai🌲:] No.

[✨Stellaris]: No? What do you mean no? Free armor, Alec. 🫴 For someone with no cash to their name, that's a pretty good deal.

[Alecai🌲:] I’ve got to go.

[✨Stellaris]: WHERE

[Alecai🌲:] Highway 69.

[✨Stellaris]: WHAT?! Are you completely insane?

[Alecai🌲:] I need to make another healing bracelet or two. Maybe talk to the Lynx. Maybe she can help me understand what's happening to me.

[✨Stellaris]: Nothing is happening to you except magical influence and severe emotional trauma! You're not thinking clearly! ALECCCC!!!! Talk to the lynx?! Wtf You’re going to get yourself killed!!! Don’t do it!

[Alecai🌲:] You’re not the boss of me.

I typed and turned off my phone screen. I didn’t have time for sleep. My fucked up, half-dead body could more or less function without sleep for weeks. Time to push myself again. Time to fight. 

This time, I actually had someone to fight for. 

A husky girl with sky blue eyes. 

I gathered my few belongings and quietly made my way out of the temple, leaving the orange robes folded neatly on the bed. Nobody bothered to stop me. 

Sister Zheniya was nowhere to be seen, and the other devotees had retired for the night.

Outside, the cool night air felt like freedom after the suffocating atmosphere of predetermined destinies and severed attachments that the temple offered.

My phone was buzzing with messages but I ignored it. I got into my Pontiac and drove out of town. The tunnel rangers let me out without issues—their job wasn’t to stop people from leaving town, it was to prevent sus characters from bringing dangerous things in. Things that could threaten the safety of the Strand family. 

The town setup made sense now—Ferguson was a mountain Citadel, a pocket of safety for the Strand patriarch and his daughters. 

I parked the Tempest at the edge of Highway 69, the familiar rusted warning signs casting eerie shadows in the moonlight. Above, violet stars and the shattered moon twinkled between drifting clouds. 

The grassy field stretching toward the dungeon's invisible boundary seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly luminescence.

I pulled out my phone, using its flashlight to retrace my steps from earlier. The pale beam cut through the darkness as I walked along the edge of the field, occasionally calling out to the empty air.

"Hey, Magnetic Lynx! Your vest probably has 'Trainee' misspelled on the back!" I shouted, watching for the telltale ripple in the air that would mark the dungeon's boundary.

There—a faint distortion, like heat waves rising from summer asphalt. I was close.

"I bet you applied for a position at three different stores before settling for the Superstore!" I added for good measure, and the ripple intensified slightly.

Perfect. I began my systematic search for more of the blue-tinted grass, methodically combing through the alien, magical flora that had sprouted near the dungeon's edge. It took nearly twenty minutes, but I finally found what I was looking for—another patch of the healing grass, this one larger than the first, with even more of those intensely blue flowers scattered throughout.

I gathered armfuls of the stuff, enough to make multiple bracelets. Sitting cross-legged in the moonlight, I activated my Syntropic Fusion skill again and again, taking my time to weave the grass and flowers into increasingly elaborate patterns. My skill mana bar dropped steadily—32%, 18%, 7%—but I pushed through until I had three completed healing artifacts.

[Congratulations! You have created: Basic Healing Bracelet (Poor Quality)] [Effect: Regenerates 0.7% Health per hour] [Duration: 3 hours, 42 minutes]

[Congratulations! You have created: Basic Healing Bracelet (Poor Quality)] [Effect: Regenerates 0.6% Health per hour] [Duration: 3 hours, 18 minutes]

[Congratulations! You have created: Basic Healing Necklace (Poor Quality)] [Effect: Regenerates 1.2% Health per hour] [Duration: 4 hours, 8 minutes]

I slipped the bracelets onto both wrists and the larger necklace down my head and around my neck.

Immediately, waves of soothing warmth spread through my battered body. The constant ache in my ribs began to fade, and I could actually feel my cuts and bruises starting to heal.

My health bar ticked upward ever so slowly.

I leaned back against a boulder, watching the numbers climb and finally allowing myself to relax for the first time since the gas station incident. The healing artifacts were working better than I'd dared hope, and with the bikers' mark funneling mana to my skills, I was actually becoming functional again.

73% health and rising. Not bad for a supposedly worthless level three human.

That's when I heard the distant rumble of motorcycle engines approaching from the north, accompanied by the telltale glow of five headlamps cutting through the darkness. My moment of peace shattered as the sound of five bikes grew louder.

Shit. The Skid Marks had found me.

But before I could even consider running towards my car, a thunderous boom echoed across the valley from the south, followed by the distinctive hum of a dragonheart anti-grav engine. I looked up to see lights streaking across the sky—the sleek silhouette of a van-style Strand Glider approaching at high speed, its magitek engines casting an aurora of colors against the clouds.

The Glider touched down in the field about 20 feet away from me, its landing thrusters scorching the grass as the engine wound down. The driver's side door slid open.

Her gold eyes blazed with fury as she spotted me sitting by the dungeon's edge.

"ALEC!" Kristi roared, her voice carrying across the field with predatory intensity. "THERE YOU ARE! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Before I could answer, the motorcycle engines reached us. Five bikes roared into the clearing. I recognized them all—Captain Adler, Donutz, TurboFluff, Bark-n-Bite, and Tequila Sunrise. But unlike this morning's drunken encounter, they were stone sober now, and each of them had drawn weapons.

Adler leveled what looked like a modified crossbow at Kristi, while Donutz had produced a sleek magical pistol that hummed with contained energy. The others spread out in a loose semicircle, cutting off potential escape routes wielding various guns.

"Well, well," Adler purred, her weapon trained on the raptor. "If it isn't Princess Strand, come to play knight in shining armor for our boy toy."

"Get lost, Silvertail," Kristi snarled, her own claws extending. "And get those weapons off me before I…!"

"You'll what?" Donutz laughed, her eyes glinting. "Call daddy? We're outside Ferguson's precious barrier, sweetheart. Your family's jurisdiction ends at those fancy obelisks."

"He doesn't belong to you," Kristi spat.

"Says the beerch who's been stalking him," TurboFluff interjected. "What's your game, Strand? Planning to claim him yourself?"

"That's enough!" I shouted, stepping backward toward the dungeon's edge. Both groups turned to look at me. "All of you, just... stop. I don't belong to anyone. I'm not property to be fought over."

"Alec, stop, don't move any further back," Kristi said, her voice urgent. "You're right at the boundary. One more step and the dungeon will—"

"—swallow you whole," Adler finished, her weapon still trained on Kristi but her attention now focused on me. "Little tater, you really don't want to go in there. Not alone, not at night, and definitely not at your level."

“I'm aware. Listen up! Here's what's going to happen," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "You're all going to lower your weapons, get back on your respective vehicles, and leave me alone. Or I take that step backward and none of you get what you want."

Both groups stared at me in shock.

"You're bluffing," Donutz said, but there was uncertainty in her voice.

"Am I?" I shifted my weight slightly, moving closer to the boundary. "I've had a really, really bad day. I got claimed by five assholes, was smacked around by raptors, and apparently am under some kind of magical influence that's making me question my sanity. So I'm all out of fucks."

"Alec, please," Kristi said, genuine fear creeping into her voice. "Don't do this. Whatever's wrong, we can figure it out together. Just... step away from the edge."

"Listen to the princess," Adler added, her usual swagger replaced by concern. "Look, if you're pissed about me smacking you too hard this morning, we can talk about it. But going into Highway 69 alone? That's suicide, even with your fancy resurrection skill. Once you go in, you get separated, cut off from our world, get stuck in an infinite loop where each death drains your level. We won’t be able to find you inside, won’t be able to bring you back!”

I was about to respond when both groups suddenly went rigid, their faces draining of color as they stared at something behind me. The temperature dropped noticeably, and I heard the distinctive whir of electromagnetic fields powering up.

"So," she said, her voice a grinding mix of metal on metal, "you're back. Are you ready to face me this time, tree-soul?"

“N-no,” I uttered, trying not to freak out. “Just getting some more healing grass from the edge of your domain, see?”

“You’re starting to annoy me with your taunts,” she said, rust-covered metal claws sliding across my chest. “Do you know what I do with things that annoy me, human?”

14: The Impossible Quest

“You… destroy them, kill them, carve them up,” I said. “I’m aware of your actions over the years. You are free to kill me, but both you and I know that it won’t do shit. Don’t waste your time on threatening me. I’m not afraid of you. I cannot die.”

“I could drag you into my domain, have the highway take you apart loop by loop until your skills become reduced to zero,” she threatened.

“You could,” I said. “But then you’d miss out on an epic battle with me. You don’t want me to be reduced. You want to me to get stronger, for my branches to bloom. Why is that? Could it be that you’ve no real challenge, that the people who come here are too easy for you to break? Are you… bored?”

The Magnetic Lynx considered my question for a long moment, her multiple headlamp eyes dimming as if she were accessing some deep memory bank. When she spoke again, her voice carried a note of something almost like... Misery?

"You are somewhat correct. The last true challenge to my strength was..." She paused, metal plates shifting as she tilted her head. "A large team of Sentinel-hunter-delvers who came in 1984… sent by Gurrwulf who wanted to build a ticket booth leech mana from me and June. They fought well before I dismantled them."

“June?”

“My love,” she answered.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Magdaline," she replied. "Or Mags…”

Behind me, I heard the sharp intake of breath from both groups. They were still frozen in place, weapons trained in various directions but none daring to actually aim at the legendary dungeon guardian standing mere feet from me.

Then one of the wolves—Bark-n-Bite, I think—made a critical error in judgment. Her hands shaking, she slowly raised her machine gun, the red targeting dot appearing on Mag's metallic forehead.

Mag's multiple headlight eyes swiveled to focus on the wolf.

She raised one clawed hand almost casually. Every weapon possessed by the bikers–crossbow, pistols, knives, machine guns suddenly flew from their owners’ hands as if yanked by invisible cables.

The metal objects collided with each other in a sphere of grinding, shrieking sound, compacting, heating up and warping as tremendous magnetic forces crushed them together.

In seconds, what had been a large number of different weapons became a perfect sphere of twisted red-hot metal, compressed so tightly it glowed like a miniature lava ball.

"No," Captain Adler uttered in horror, staring at the melted metal orb hovering above the Lynx's palm.

"You're interrupting my conversation." The Lynx flicked her wrist. “Perish.”

The sphere shot forward like a railgun round, moving so fast it created a sonic boom that would have sent me flying if the Lynx wasn’t holding onto me. It punched through Bark-n-Bite's motorcycle engine, emerging from the other side trailing sparks and engine oil.

The bike exploded.

The detonation lit up the night roadside like a miniature sun, the blast wave hurling all five bikers through the air like rag dolls. Metal shrapnel scythed through the darkness, and I watched in horror as jagged pieces of motorcycle found their marks. Adler took a fragment through her shoulder, spinning her around before she hit the ground hard. Donutz went down with deep gashes across her legs, while TurboFluff and Tequila were both sliced with various bits of shrapnel.

Bark-n-Bite was thrown the farthest, landing in a crumpled heap nearly thirty feet away, blood streaming from multiple wounds.

The entire attack had taken maybe three seconds.

Mag's attention then shifted to Kristi, who had been frozen in shock during the entire display. The raptor girl's gold eyes met the Lynx's multiple headlamps for just an instant before survival instincts kicked in.

The anti-grav engine of her Strand Glider powered down with a descending whine as Kristi hit the emergency landing sequence. The sleek vehicle dropped to the field in front of us with a heavy thud, its landing struts extending just in time to prevent a crash.

Kristi jumped out of the glider and dropped to her knees, her head bowed low in the universal pradavarian gesture of submission. Her feathers lay flat against her neck and shoulders, and she kept her claws pressed firmly to the ground.

"I meant no disrespect, s-sacred Guardian of the Highway," she uttered, her voice trembling. "I came only to retrieve my... friend. Please! I don’t desire to harm you! Spare us!”

“Curious,” Mags said. “You… survived the highway. Not many manage to escape the endless loop. Yet you are afraid of me? Hrmm. You are weak, broken, an incomplete… shell.”

With that, she turned her full attention back to me, as if the entire violent display had been nothing more than swatting an annoying fly.

“Kristi survived the highway?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mags replied. “This critter is one of the few who were able to get away from the time loop. Also, I killed her. She was in your pack. Hrmmm…”

The alien memories I'd been experiencing suddenly made terrible sense. 

The black and white tiles, the blood, cradling someone in my arms—they weren't fantasies or dreams. They were echoes of something that had happened, or would happen, or was happening in some twisted loop of causality.

"What happened to my pack?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer would destroy something inside me.

"I killed them," Mags said with clinical detachment. “I already told you. I spared you then too, because you didn’t show outright hostility, hoping that you would return. And so you did. Yet you aren’t any stronger. This is disappointing. Do not return here unless you wish to fight me and to enter this dungeon.”

She let go of me.

“Or what?” I growled.

“Or I will kill everyone you care about,” she said. “Again, as I have before. You smell like the town of Ferguson. I will go there and kill everyone. If I can’t take you down, I will take apart anyone who smells like you. Perhaps this will motivate you to bloom faster.”

“The fuck is wrong with you?” I demanded. “Why the hell are you like this?! Why do you want to fight me so bad?! If you’re such a powerhouse and can go outside of your fucking domain, why not go fight the big guys, challenge the Prad corps that built walls around other dungeons?”

“I cannot forsake June,” Magdaline shook her head. “I cannot abandon my love. She barely remembers me as it is. She is bound, chained to her domain, cursed.”

“What… What does this have to do with me getting stronger?” I breathed out.

“You smell like you’ve made it to the end of time and slain the Leviathan of the Wormwood Star,” Magdaline said. “If you get strong enough to beat me, then you can make it to the end of Highway 69 and shear the loop that binds June to this road, freeing her from a nightmare of her own making.”

I opened and closed my mouth.

“I don’t remember slaying any Leviathans,” I said.

“Hrm,” she hummed sharply. “Disappointing. Perhaps more motivation is in order.”

She pointed her hand at Kristi, an iron nail crawling into her humming, shimmering palm.

I stepped in front of the palm, shielding Kristi.

“Don’t,” I growled.

“So you do care about this pitiful creature,” the Lynx said, lowering her hand. “Get stronger or she dies.”

"Why me?" I asked. "Why not find someone stronger? Someone who actually knows what they're doing? Hell why not do it yourself? Aren’t you fucking unstoppable? What is even your level?”

"My level is irrelevant. Strength alone cannot navigate the endless road. The strongest delvers who have attempted to best the highway become lost, their minds shattered by experiencing endless variations of their own deaths. But you... I've seen your tree. You stopped me, once, long ago, showed me that you cannot truly die, cannot break." Mags raised a clawed finger, pointing at her heart. "I am classified as a Dungeon Sentinel, bound to the outermost edge and the wild lands beyond it. I cannot reach this dungeon’s heart due to what I am, must obey my purpose. You might be able to do what I cannot."

“And if I refuse?”

“I’m not giving you a choice, liminal tree,” Mags said, pointing a finger at trembling Kristi. “First, she dies. Then everyone in Ferguson dies. Then, I will kill every human and pradavarian I can reach. Then I will kill you. Again and again. I won’t let you get to the end of time, won’t allow you to slay the Leviathan again just to bring them all back with a wish.”

"What are you talking about?! You're insane!"

"I am desperate," she corrected with a finger wag. "I am very tired. I watched my love suffer for far too long. I have felt her agony, her pain, her looping death through our bond. I tried everything to offset her suffering, tried to create children to feel something other than despair, tried so much and failed. There is nothing I would not destroy to free June from her endless torment."

I stared at the Magnetic Lynx with wide eyes.

“Hrm,” she considered. “I think that you need System-enforced motivation, a permanent reminder.”

She walked over to Kristi and whispered something to the trembling raptor. I stared at them.

“A-Alec,” Kristi said mewled, looking up at me. “B-by the power of the Strand Estate as its Primaborn daughter, by the ward of Ferguson, I bind you to a Quest—reach the h-heart of H-highway Sixty Nine and shear the time loop therein!”

As if summoned by the raptor-girl’s words, silver text suddenly materialized in my vision.

[QUEST NOTIFICATION: The Lynx's Gambit] [Difficulty: Impossible.] [Objective: Navigate Highway 69's temporal maze and reach the end.] [Reward: Prevent the systematic murder of everyone you've ever met.] [Failure Consequence: Watch Ferguson burn, then die repeatedly until you comply] [Time Limit: Until Magdaline gets bored of waiting] [Note: Congratulations! You've somehow managed to get blackmailed by a Legendary Dungeon Sentinel. This is either impressive or incredibly stupid. Possibly both.] [Accept Quest? Y/N]

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I muttered, staring at the snarky system message floating before my eyes.

“I’m… I’m ss-sorry,” the raptor choked.

[Additional Note: The System is contractually obligated to inform you that this quest has a 0.00001% success rate for someone of your level. However, it's also contractually obligated to mention that refusing will result in your immediate and repeated death, followed by the deaths of everyone in a fifty-mile radius. Choose wisely! Or don't. It’s all good.]

I stared at the notification with utter disbelief.

Magdaline's multiple eyes whirred as they focused on me. "Tree-soul, you are trying my patience. Accept or the raptor dies.”

[PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION: If you accept an impossible quest to save people who may or may not care about you, are you being heroic or just enabling a psychotic dungeon Sentinel's unhealthy relationship?] The next System message flashed into existence.

"Oh, for the love of—" I mentally pressed 'Y' with more force than necessary. “YES!”

[QUEST ACCEPTED: The Lynx's Gambit] [Welcome to your inevitable doom!] [BONUS OBJECTIVE UNLOCKED: Try not to go insane from experiencing infinite variations of your own death!] [HIDDEN OBJECTIVE: ????? (The System isn't telling you this one. It's way too depressing.)]

"Excellent," Magdaline said, the red-hot nail in her palm cooling to normal metal. 

“You know you could be a bit more cooperative, work with me to…” I began.

“Dungeon Sentinels don't exist to work with delvers,” the Lynx shook her head, making her rust-metal hair rustle. “They exist to kill them. I cannot physically assist you, cannot cooperate with you and cannot follow your orders.”

“Why?”

“This conversation strays too far outside of my parameters and tires me. Get stronger. Come back. Reach the end of this dungeon. Don’t attempt to avoid the Quest.”

Having said that, Magdaline took another step back and vanished into the shimmering dungeon edge curtain.

15: Alpha

The silence that followed was deafening. The only sounds were the distant crackling of burning motorcycle parts and Kristi's ragged breathing behind me.

"I'm sorry," she stammered out, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry, Alec. I didn't—I couldn't—she made me—"

I turned away from where Magdaline had vanished, my face a mask of cold fury. Kristi was still on her knees, tears streaming down her scaled cheeks, her entire body shaking with the aftermath of terror and guilt.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she kept repeating, her words tumbling over each other. "She said she'd kill my sisters, my parents, you… if I didn't bind the Quest, said she'd tear you apart piece by piece, and I couldn't—I couldn't let that happen—"

I walked past her without a word, heading toward the scattered forms of the Skid Marks. The explosion had thrown them across the field like broken dolls, and most were still groaning as they tried to assess their injuries in the flickering light of the burning wreckage.

Captain Adler lay on the roadside, her leather jacket torn open and dark with blood. The metal fragment had punched clean through her left shoulder, and she was clutching the wound with her good hand, her usual swagger replaced by the hollow-eyed stare of someone who'd just learned what real power looked like.

I walked over to her deliberately, my footsteps crunching on scattered debris. She looked up as I approached, her silver and black fur matted with dirt and blood.

"Alec-tater," she wheezed, managing a weak grin despite her obvious pain. "Hell of a—"

I stepped onto her chest with my full weight, driving the air from her lungs. Her words cut off in a strangled gasp as my boot pressed down on her ribcage, beside the area where the metal fragment had torn through her shoulder. Blood seeped through her tank top.

"Did you hear the Lynx?" I asked, my voice perfectly level.

Adler tried to speak but could only wheeze, her good hand clawing weakly at my leg. Behind me, I could hear Kristi's sobbing intensify, but I didn't turn around.

"She's going to kill everyone I care about if I don't complete her quest," I continued, pressing down harder. "Everyone in Ferguson. Everyone I've met. Everyone I might meet." I leaned forward slightly, putting more weight on her chest. "That includes you and your pack."

"A-Alec," she gasped. "Can't... breathe..."

"Good." I didn't ease up. "So here's what's going to happen. You're going to stop calling me, stop tracking me, stop treating me like your property. You're going to take your little gang and disappear until I figure out how to complete this impossible quest. Because if you don't—if you keep bothering me, keep distracting me from what I need to do—then everyone dies, and it'll be your fault."

I lifted my foot slightly, just enough for her to draw a ragged breath. "Do we understand each other?"

Adler nodded frantically, blood flecking her lips.

From nearby, I heard Donutz's voice, weak but defiant. "The spellchain... binding you to us... can't be broken like that."

I turned to look at the fox, who was propped up against a piece of twisted metal, her legs dark with blood from multiple lacerations. Despite her injuries, hereyes still held that calculating intelligence that made her dangerous.

"A Dagaz Rune only replicates once it's set in," she continued. "It doesn't matter what threats you make or how much you want to be free. The binding exists in a conceptual loop in the Astral now. It can only be broken by the conditions I set—two prads who love you and each other more than we do."

I stared at her, feeling something cold settle in my chest. "You're saying I'm stuck with you idiots forever?"

“Y-yes,” the fox let out, blinking tears out of her eyes. “I… like you even more now. That was incredible. You… you’re the real shit, real deal, Alec… You… spoke to the Magnetic Lynx and lived. You hold… everyone’s lives in your hands… that’s… pretty hot, ’m not gonna lie.”

“Yeh,” Adler let out. “You’ve only managed to make yourself look more impressive, tater.”

“You… look stronger,” Donutz added. “The mana transfer, it’s working, yes?”

“Yes,” I ground out. “It’s working.”

“Great,” the fox smiled, spitting blood from her mouth. 

“Great?!” I growled, relocating from Adler to grab Donuts by her torn up leather jacket. “You think that…”

Candace winced as I shook her. 

“Choke me harder,” she let out, with a grin, blood splattered tail wagging slightly.

“God damn you all!” I snarled, my grip weakening.

“That's it,” Candace laughed, panting. “Call me names, hit me. I know you want to. I deserve it all. I'm a bad girl and my heart belongs to the open road, to the wind and the sky… and to you, my new… immovable Alpha.”

“What?” My eye twitched. 

“I don’t know about the others, but you’re def’ my Alpha now,” she let out. “You took on the Lynx and walked away without a scratch. She obviously saw something in you. Potential. Glory. Power. I see it too and so I… submit.”

She lowered her eyes. “Do with me as you desire.”

“I see how it's going to be,” I said. “Fine. I accept.”

“You do?” Candace's eyes lit up. “You're going to join us and…”

“No,” I said. 

“What?” She blinked.

“You're not expelled from school right?” I asked.

“Umm, no,” she said. “I ran away from home without telling anyone… Why?”

When a pradavarian declared someone their Alpha, they usually obeyed them, followed their orders.

“Here’s my first order as Alpha—I’m disbanding the Skid Marks,” I grinned. “You’re coming home with me, Candace.”

“W-what?! No, you can’t make me go back!” She cried out.

“Oh?” I pulled the bluegrass healing necklace off my neck and put it on hers. “You’re going to disobey your new Alpha then? Is that how it’s going to be? Rebelling already?”

"I... no," she said quietly, her earlier defiance crumbling. "I won't rebel against my Alpha. But please, Alec, you don't understand. I can't go back to stay with my parents. They'll force me into therapy, try to 'fix' me… put me on meds! I… I don’t want to be on that shit again. It makes me dull, empty, uncaring…”

I studied her face, seeing genuine fear beneath the tough biker exterior. "Fine. You can live with me then."

Her ears perked up slightly. "Really?"

"Really. I'm going to fix up my grandfather's burned-out farmhouse. Plenty of room for one more." I gestured at the other downed members of the Skid Marks. "Speaking of which—who else is expelled from Ferguson High like Adler?”

Candace looked around at her former packmates, most of whom were now staring at us with expressions ranging from confusion to outright betrayal.

"Only Addie," she said. 

"And the others?"

"TurboFluff graduated last year. She left town to work at a gas station while doing loner delving. She hooked up with us inside the Superstore. Bark-n-Bite and Tequila Sunrise are from Iona—they joined our pack about three months ago. We’re… we’re family." 

"A family that beat me up," I pointed out.

"That was just a bit of hazing," she protested weakly. "Come on, you’re clearly fine. We were testing you, seeing if you were worthy of—"

I glared at her.

“Sorry.” She fell silent, lowering her eyes.

I shook my head and stood up, surveying the carnage around us. The Skid Marks were scattered across the field like broken toys, bleeding and groaning in the flickering light of their destroyed motorcycle. Despite everything they'd put me through, I couldn't just leave them here to die. 

"Candace, where's your first aid kit?" I asked.

"In... in Bark’s saddlebags," she pointed weakly toward the burning wreckage. "Probably melted by now."

I sighed and walked over to Kristi, who was still catatonic and mumbling apologies.

“Got an aid kit?” I asked.

“I’m so sssoooorrr…” she froze for a second, processing my question for a moment. “Glider. Dashboard.” She finally let out.

I walked over to her Strand Glider and pulled the general med kit from its innards. It had a couple of healing potions and bandages coated in some generic healing solution.

"Help me patch them up," I ordered. "Starting with Bark."

Candace struggled to her feet, leaning heavily on my arm as we made our way back to where Bark lay.

We poured the two healing potions from the kit into her mouth. Bark-n-Bite's throat worked reflexively as the potions went down, her wolf features relaxing slightly as the magical healing began to take effect. The worst of the bleeding slowed, though she remained unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady.

"Bark’ll live," Candace announced as she sent an Identify pulse across the wolf. "But she's gonna be out for a while.”

Then we walked over to Adler.

"Come back to gloat, tater?" She asked.

"Come back to keep you from bleeding to death," I replied, kneeling beside her. "Hold still."

I pulled off her leather jacket and examined the wound where the metal fragment had punched through her shoulder. It had gone clean through, which was good—no shrapnel to dig out—but she was losing blood at a concerning rate.

"This is going to hurt," I warned, uncapping the antiseptic.

"Can't hurt worse than—FUCK!" Adler's words cut off in a yowl of pain as I poured the antiseptic over both sides of the wound. Her claws raked furrows in the dirt as she fought not to pull away.

"Drama queen," I muttered, applying pressure bandages to both the entry and exit wounds. "Candace, hold these in place while I make a sling."

"Here's the situation, Captain,” I began as I bandaged her up. “The Magnetic Lynx just made it very clear that my continued existence depends on completing an impossible quest. That means I need to get stronger, fast."

“If you join my pack, I can help you get strong,” she said.

“With you as Alpha and me as your bottom?” I arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, not happening.”

She winced as I bound her hand.

"Candace has already declared me her Alpha,” I said. “Question is—what about you?"

Adler stared at me, her silver eyes unreadable. "You want me to submit to you?

"I want you to make a choice," I said, finishing the sling and helping her get her arm into it. "You can accept me as Alpha and follow my orders, or you can go back to being Captain of whomever remains. Your team of five is disbanded either way."

"Disbanded?" Her eyes flashed with anger. "You can't just—"

"I can and I did," I cut her off. " Candace is with me now. The others can choose for themselves. But the Skid Marks are done. That name, that identity—it dies here.”

“W-what?” She blinked. “You can’t do that! Donutz! You love me, don’t you?”

Candace nodded. 

“So what the shit?!”

“The Lynx will kill everyone if Alec doesn’t reach the end of Highway 69,” Candace pointed out. “She’s made that pretty clear. Also, my Alpha made it clear that he’s not going to be told what to do. So I submit to him instead as it is clearly the only path forward. I suggest you do the same.”

“Fuck you!” The cheetah snapped.

Candace reached towards Adler’s head with her paw. “Bind Mobility.”

Adler’s body went limp.

Candace pulled out a plastic spoon from her pocket. “Submit.”

“F-fuck you!” Adler repeated with a deep growl.

“I will scoop out your eyes,” the fox brought the plastic spoon to Adler’s eye sitting atop of the paralyzed cheetah. “And you won’t be able to stop me.”

The sheer absurdity of the situation—Donutz menacing Adler with a utensil that looked like it came from a fast-food joint—was almost enough to make me crack a smile. Almost. The tension in the air was still thick, with the burning wreckage of the motorcycle casting flickering shadows across the field.

“Okay, okay, jeez!” Adler wheezed, her silver eyes darting between the spoon and Donutz’s deadpan expression. “What’s next, you gonna fork me to death with a spork? Maybe suck my brains out with a bendy straw?”

Donutz leaned in closer, twirling the spoon dramatically between her claws like it was a dagger. “Don’t tempt me, Cap. This spoon’s seen some shit. Survived the Superstore deli section and TurboFluff’s attempt at ‘cooking.’ It’s got a kill count.”

“You’re lucky I love your loopy ass,” Adler sighed.

16: The Binder

“Love you too, Cap,” Donutz grinned, lowering the spoon but keeping it pointed at Adler like a mock threat. “You gonna submit to our new Alpha or do I gotta keep you paralyzed forever?”

Adler’s grin faded as she glanced at me. I could tell she was weighing her options—pride versus survival, loyalty to her pack versus the reality of the Magnetic Lynx’s threat. I didn’t push her; I just stood there, arms crossed, letting the weight of the moment do the talking.

“Fine,” she said at last, her voice low and begrudging. “You’re Alpha, Alec-tater. But don’t think this means I’m gonna bow to every single order. I’m only doin’ this ‘cause my lieutenant got a point—the Lynx ain’t fuckin’ around, and I ain’t ready to die just to prove I’ve got bigger balls than you.”

“Fair enough,” I nodded, stepping back to give her some space. “You’re with me, then. No more Skid Marks. No more Captain Adler. You’re just Addie now.”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Fine.”

“Candace, let her up.” I ordered.

Donutz waved her paw, muttering, “Release Mobility.” Adler’s body relaxed, and she struggled to sit up, wincing as her bandaged shoulder protested. She shot Donutz a mock glare. “You’re sleepin’ on the floor for that spoon stunt, Candy.”

“Did you just use my old nickname?” Candace glared.

“I did, whatcha gonna do ‘bout it?” Addie asked with a feral grin.

“Oh, I have many options,” Candace purred. “I know your weakness.”

I shook my head at their banter.

“Here, help out the others,” I handed Addie the medkit from Kristi’s car. She nodded, limping towards the downed delvers.

I walked toward TurboFluff with Candace at my heels. The lynx was sitting cross-legged, licking blood off her paw like it was no big deal, though the gash across her arm and a blood stain spreading across her stomach told a different story.

“Yo, Fluff,” Donutz began. “You saw what went down. The Lynx ain’t playin’, and Alec’s our best shot at not gettin’ wiped out. You in with him as Alpha, or you goin’ solo?”

TurboFluff’s yellow eyes flicked to me, sizing me up like I was a piece of questionable meat. “This guy?” she said, jerking her chin in my direction. “Level three, no gear, smells like a dumpster?”

I glared down at her, my arms crossed.

TurboFluff squinted up at me. “What? Even if that freaky dungeon Sentinel respects you for some dum’ reason, you don’t look like Alpha material. No offense, but you’re kinda... scrawny.”

“No offence but it looks like you’re bleeding out,” I said. “And I have the only aid kit and bluegrass healing artifacts.”

“What, those grass thingies? Pffff,” TurboFluff let out. “I’ll be fine. I’m a tough cookie.”

"Fuuuuuuck!" Adler snarled from where she examined the bikes.

“What?” TurboFluff choked. "How's my bike?"

"Gone by the looks of things," Adler said.

“WHAT?!”

"That magnetic beerch didn't just chuck a metal ball at us... all of the electronics are fried. Your bike’s fucked beyond repair from what I can see," Adler called back. 

"Come on, you’re screwing with me… It's not that bad, right?" TurboFluff called out, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. "I mean, our bikes are tough. Built to last, reinforced with a shit-ton of defence runework n’ magisteel artifacts! Right? All of that shit couldn’t have…"

Addie spent several more minutes examining the damage, her expression growing grimmer by the second. When she turned back, her face said everything.

"Fluff..." she began.

"No," TurboFluff said firmly. "Don't say it."

"Your bike's fucked, girl. Completely and utterly fucked." Addie shook her head. "Whatever that magnetic beerch did, it wasn't just compression. She sent out some kind of insanely high level magnetic pulse that fractured, incrementally shifted every gear, every bolt, every piece of metal in those engines. Look around—see how all our bikes are leaking gas? That's because the fuel lines got micro-tears from the magnetic stress. The magisteel runework’s shifted too, none of the runes are functional."

TurboFluff's ears flattened against her skull. "But... but my baby... I just got her engine rebuilt. Spent months' worth of gas station wages on those custom exhaust pipes..."

"I'm sorry, Fluff," Addie said. "She's gone. They're all gone. Even if we could somehow get them running, we'd never make it back to town. Gas is pooling under every single bike. I might be able to save my glider though… maybe. It’s got a self-repair rune on it. Just have to refill the magisteel casing."

She grabbed her bike and started to drag it away from the fire.

TurboFluff’s eyes filled with tears. She broke down completely, wailing at the sky. “You bastard! You fucking magnetic bastard!” She cried, shaking and clawing at the ground.

Candace came to Turbo and hugged her, wrapping her foxtail around the crying lynx.

"Three years," she wept. "I worked on that bike for three years. Every spare credit, every free hour... she was gonna take me places. Gonna get me out of this shithole life!"

“Donutz get your ass here and bind this fire before anything else explodes!” Adler yelled.

The fox let go of the lynx and rushed as quickly as she could towards the burning wreckage. 

“Bind flammability!” She barked, waving her hands. 

The fire weakened, sputtering out slightly.

TurboFluff sniffed, looking despondent.

"Machines can be replaced," I said to her. "Lives can't."

TurboFluff's head snapped up, her grief instantly transforming into fury. "Easy for you to say! You've got your little rust bucket car sitting pretty over there while my entire fucking world just went up in smoke!"

“You’ll live,” I offered her my bluegrass bracelet. “Take the damn healing bracelet before you pass out from blood loss.”

“Ttfff-thanks,” she accepted the bluegrass artifact, pulling it on her wrist with a sniff. “Fine. You can be Alpha. You win. I have nothing left. Just… just promise me that you won’t fuck me over, help me get a new bike?”

“Deal,” I agreed.

“Thanks,” she nodded, lowering her eyes.

Tequila Sunrise groaned from where she lay, finally showing signs of consciousness. "What... what the fuck happened? Why does everything hurt?"

"Magnetic Lynx happened," Adler called over. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Tequila."

"Fuck, I feel like I got hit by a truck. Multiple trucks. Driven by very angry trucks." Tequila Sunrise groaned, struggling to sit up. Her brown and tan wolf fur was matted with dirt and blood, and she had a nasty gash across her forehead that was still oozing blood.

I walked over to her, stepping carefully around scattered debris from the explosion. The wolf looked confused and disoriented, her amber eyes unfocused as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.

"Tequila, you've been out for like ten minutes," Adler said, kneeling beside her packmate. "How much do you remember?"

“Fuck all,” Tequila said. "Wait… let me think. We were tracking Alec here. Found him sitting by the dungeon edge. Then Strand Princess showed up in her fancy ass glider, and we all had our weapons out..." She trailed off, looking around at the burning wreckage. "What the hell happened to our bikes?"

"The Magnetic Lynx happened," I said grimly.

Tequila blinked at me. "The what now?"

Candace limped over to Tequila. "Okay, so, long story short—the legendary Dungeon Sentinel that guards Highway 69 came out to chat with Alec. Bark pointed a gun at her, which was... not a great life choice. She turned all our weapons into a metal ball and shot it through Bark's bike engine. The explosion is what knocked you out."

Tequila’s head snapped to her bike.

“Bikes are gone,” Candace said. “The Sentinel shared every gear with her magnetic power.”

"Bikes are gone?! A dungeon monster came out to talk?" Tequila looked incredulous, turning her head back to the fox-girl. "That's... that's not how dungeons work. Sentinels don't just come out for casual conversation. What the fuck are you saying?!"

"The Magnetic Lynx is hella old. Probably the oldest Dungeon Sentinel in the world and… apparently Alec's special," Candace continued. "The Lynx basically blackmailed him into accepting some kind of impossible quest. Said she'd kill everyone in Ferguson if he didn't reach the heart of the dungeon and break some time loop. Then she forced Kristi to bind the quest using her family's authority."

Tequila's wolf ears flattened against her skull as she processed this information. "Hol’ up. A legendary-tier dungeon boss threatens to murder an entire town unless a level-three human completes some suicide mission? And somehow this leads to me waking up with a concussion next to the smoldering remains of my bike?"

"Pretty much," I confirmed.

“Me, Cap and Turbo declared Alec as our Alpha,” Candace added.

“Why?” Tequila sputtered.

Candace looked at me tiredly.

I opened my mouth.

"Let me guess, you're also expecting me to follow you as Alpha because some crazy dungeon monster said so?" Tequila shook her head. "No. I'm not about to reorganize my entire life around the demands of some Slayer-damned Sentinel."

Candace's expression tightened. "Tequila, she wasn't joking about the mass murder thing. She literally destroyed all our artifacts and weapons in seconds! This is like a… town-saving quest! Are you in or…?"

"I don't care what some dungeon freak wants," Tequila shot back, struggling to her feet with a wince. "I've got my own responsibilities. My mom and other sisters are back in Iona, working at the grain mill. She's not the sharpest claw in the pack, if you know what I mean. Sweet as honey but dumb as a brick. I can't just abandon her to go on some suicidal quest with a human I barely know!”

She gestured at the wreckage around us. "Look at this fucking mess. Without our bikes, we don't have a domain anymore. Can't reach the good dungeons, can't make decent money delving. The Skid Marks are clearly finished."

"So what's your plan?" I asked Tequila.

"Simple. Princess beerch got a functional glider, right?" Tequila glanced in Kristi’s direction. 

“She do,” Candace nodded.

"Good. Use it to take me n’ Bark home to Iona,” Tequila said. “We got a decent family doc there that can patch us up.”

"And you're okay with potentially dying when the Lynx gets impatient and starts taking out Citadels one by one?" Candace asked.

Tequila shrugged. "Look, I'm sorry about whack your doomsday timeline, but I've got family to think about. This whole delving thing was fun, but I ain’t got shit now—no bike, no rune-reinforced clothing and no weapons. The fuck you want from me? Just take me n’ Bark home, you knobs.”

“You’ll think about it, maaaaybe?” Candace offered.

“Whatever,” Tequila said. “You remeba’ my landline number, ye?”

The fox nodded.

“Call me after you sort out your life with your new Alpha,” Tequila sighed. “If we don’t find another delivin’ group to join by then and if you can get me new wheels… We’ll see.”

17: The Prodigal Princess

I nodded, then walked over to where Kristi sat hunched beside her Strand Glider. She hadn't moved from her position since the Lynx disappeared, still trembling and muttering fragmented apologies under her breath. Her golden eyes were wide and unfocused, pupils dilated with shock.

"Kristi," I said gently, crouching down beside her. "Hey. Look at me."

She blinked slowly, her gaze focusing on my face with obvious effort. "I'm sorry," she whispered for what had to be the hundredth time. "I'm so sorry, Alec. I didn't want to—she made me—"

"I know," I cut her off. "You did what you had to do. No one's blaming you."

That wasn't entirely true—I was still processing my own anger about being quest-bound—but Kristi looked fragile enough to shatter if I pushed her right now.

"Can you open your glider's cargo compartment?" I asked. "We need to get everyone back to town."

She nodded mutely, pulling out her key fob with shaking hands. The rear section of the sleek vehicle hissed open, revealing a surprisingly spacious trunk area with fold-down passenger seats.

"Perfect," I said, then called over to the others. "Candace, Adler—get that Glider in."

Adler's partially-intact bike was a mangled mess of twisted metal and cracked magisteel plating, but it was still recognizably a vehicle rather than abstract art that the others resembled. The three of us worked together to strip off the damaged armor plating and defensive shields, leaving just the core frame and engine block, loading everything into Kristi’s car piece by piece.

"This is gonna be tight," Adler muttered.

"Stop whinin’ and lift," Candace shot back, her fox ears flattened with exertion as she helped guide the rear wheel into the cargo space.

It took some creative engineering and a lot of grunting, but we managed to slide the bike into the glider's expanded cargo area.

There were only two passenger seats remaining at the front.

"Kristi," I turned to the raptor. "Are you okay to fly your Glider?”

“Yes,” she answered with a weary expression. “It has autopilot mode. Uhm? To… where?”

“Take Bark and Tequila to Iona,” I said. “Then head home and get some rest. Okay?”

She nodded, mechanically. "Yes. I can... I can drop them at Iona first. Then… go home." Her voice was flat.

"Good." I turned to Tequila and Bark-n-Bite. "Get them loaded up."

Bark was still unconscious but breathing steadily, the healing potions having stabilized her condition. Tequila and Candace carefully lifted her between them, settling her across the fold-down seats in the glider's passenger compartment. Tequila climbed in beside her unconscious packmate, cradling Bark's head in her lap.

"Thanks for this," Tequila said quietly, her earlier defiance replaced by exhaustion. "I know we ain't exactly been friendly to you, but... Really. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," I replied.

Kristi slid into the pilot's seat, her movements still stiff. The glider's engines hummed to life with a soft blue glow, the anti-grav systems lifting the overloaded vehicle off the ground with a subtle vibration.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" she asked, not quite meeting my eyes. "At school? If... if you still want to hang out with me after what I did."

"Yes. I'll see you tomorrow," I confirmed. “It’s just a Quest, Kris, don’t worry so much about it.”

“Just a Quest,” she nodded with a look of a shell-shocked World War one soldier. “Just… a Quest from the Magnetic Lynx.”

The glider rose smoothly into the night sky, its navigation lights blinking as it banked toward the south. I watched until it disappeared beyond the treeline, then turned back to my own transportation situation.

"Come on," I said, leading Adler, Turbo and Candace toward my ancient Pontiac. "Let's get out of here before something else tries to kill us."

Candace helped Adler into the back seat, where the cheetah immediately curled up into a ball, her spotted fur matted with dried blood and dirt. Turbo sat next to her captain. The fox then claimed the shotgun seat, sliding in beside me with a contented sigh.

"You’re a good Alpha,” she said with a soft smile. “That was… effective management.”

I glanced at her as the Tempest rumbled to life. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Definitely." Candace's tail swished against the seat as she settled in, and I could hear a faint purring sound coming from her throat. "I've never had a male Alpha before. This is all kinds of exciting."

"Don't get too excited," I muttered, putting the car in gear. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"None of us do," Adler mumbled from the back seat. "That's what makes it fun. Addie winged it most of the time. It’s how we ended up very drunk and… you know.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

Candace kept up a steady stream of chatter as I drove us back to Ferguson, apparently immune to the late hour and recent trauma. She told me about the Superstore dungeon, about the various delving teams they'd encountered, about the politics of free-range pradavarian packs. Her voice had a musical quality that reminded me of Nessy's, though where Nessy's songs carried emotional weight, Candace's words seemed designed to fill silence.

"You're not listening," she said after a few minutes.

"I'm listening," I lied.

"No, you're not. You're thinking about stuff,” she said. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“A girl,” I said. 

“A girl, huh?” Candace leaned closer. “What’s her name?”

“Nessy,” I said.

“Ah,” Candace fell silent, seemingly processing my statement.

The lights of Ferguson's outer barrier came into view ahead of us, the towering obelisks glowing with protective runes against the night sky. I could see the checkpoint ahead.

"Shit," I muttered, slowing down. "Are you three going to have issues being let backa in?”

"Don't worry about it," Candace said, pulling out her wallet. "I've got my Ferguson High student ID. Adler's got hers too, even if she's expelled. Turbo is a resident too. They'll recognize us. Don’t fret."

A large German Shepherd in a sergeant's uniform approached as I rolled down my window.

"Evening," he said, his tone professional but wary. "Identification and purpose of visit to Ferguson?"

I handed over my license while Candace dug through her leather jacket for her student ID. The sergeant's eyes widened slightly as he recognized her.

"Miss… Candace Rhinehart?" he choked.

“Mhmmm,” Candace purred.

“You… don’t look like your ID.”

“I’ve been on a recovery vacay,” Candace lied. “Got too over-stressed in Advanced Delving, you know how it is. Got my darling human to pick me up. We ran into Addie and Terry on our way here—and what do you know, they gave up on that naughty biker gang biz!”

The dog squinted at the fox, his nose twitching as he processed conflicting scents and information. Recognition warred with confusion across his weathered features.

"Miss Rhinehart," he said slowly, "your parents reported you missing months ago. There's been a city-wide search—"

"Oh," Candace waved dismissively. "I was perfectly safe on my vacay. Just had to get away for a bit!"

The sergeant's expression remained skeptical, but he gestured for another guard to approach—a bloodhound who immediately began circling our car, nose working overtime.

"Ma'am, we'll need to verify your identity with a truth rune," the sergeant said, producing a glowing crystal from his belt.

"Of course," Candace replied smoothly, extending her paw toward the crystal that projected the Truth rune. The rune flared to life, casting light across her face. "I am Candace Rhinehart, Prima of Rhinehart Estate. This human, Alec Foster, offered to drive me back to my hometown, because I was attacked by the Magnet Lynx and my vehicle was destroyed."

The rune flashed green. The guard’s faces grew pale.

"And the cheetah and lynx in the back seat?" The sergeant's partner had moved to examine Adler, who was pretending to be asleep.

"That's Adler Silvertail and Terry Lexington," Candace continued. "Former leader and delver of a motorcycle gang who has disbanded said organization and declared this lovely human as their new Alpha as he helped their injured asses."

The crystal flickered slightly but still projected green glow. 

The bloodhound finished his circuit and returned to his partner, shaking his head. "No contraband, no dungeon artifacts, no weapons, explosive residue. They smell like blood and motor oil, and the car is slightly magnetised, but that's consistent with their story."

"Wake her up," the sergeant ordered, pointing at Adler. "I want to hear this from her own mouth."

Candace reached back and poked the cheetah. "Addie, wakey-wakey. Nice doggy wants to chat."

Adler cracked one colorful eye open, took in the situation, and sighed dramatically. "What now?"

"Place your paw on the truth rune," the sergeant instructed. "State your current status."

Adler grimaced but complied, her spotted paw touching the crystal. "Adler Silvertail, formerly Captain of the Skid Marks… motorcycle and delving club. As of tonight, due to the unexpected attack of the Magnetic Lynx of Highway Sixty Nine, I have disbanded the organization and declared Alec Foster as my Alpha."

The crystal blazed green.

"The Skid Marks are... disbanded?" The sergeant blinked in surprise. "What changed?"

"This human Alpha is more impressive than I initially gave him credit for," Adler replied with a smirk. "Plus, our bikes got destroyed near dungeon territory, so the whole 'motorcycle gang' thing became kind of moot."

Still green.

The guards exchanged glances, clearly processing this unexpected development. 

“Do you intend to cause trouble in town, or harm anyone, or perform illegal activities?” The guard asked Adler.

“No,” Adler sighed. “I’ll be good and law abiding. No violence or crime. I’ve a new Alpha to follow.”

Green again.

“Now you!” The dog ordered.

Terry placed her paw on the rune and answered his demands with the same answers as Addie.

The sergeant made a note on his tablet before stepping back.

"Welcome back to Ferguson, Miss Rhinehart," he said formally. "Your parents will be relieved to hear you're safe."

“Eh, daddums always worries too much,” Candace shrugged, acting out the rich, careless girl role perfectly.

The gates opened with a mechanical groan, and we drove through into Ferguson proper. I waited until we were well clear of the checkpoint before speaking.

"What the fuck was that about?" I demanded, glancing at Candace. "You're some kind of missing person, but they just... let us go? How do they know that Addie and Terry are in a gang but you’re not?"

Candace laughed, a sound like silver bells with a hint of mischief. "Oh, that? Simple conceptual misdirection. I've been binding the name 'Donutz' to the concept of a fictional delver. In most people's minds and Astral scans the biker Binder Donutz and Princess Candace Rhinehart are completely different people."

"That's..." I struggled to process this. "That's… crafty. What kind of a princess are you?"

"No actual title, just old family," she clarified. "Daddy owns some mining operations in the northern territories. The Rhinehart family founded one of the first dungeon surveying companies back in the day."

From the back seat, Adler snorted. "Yeah, our little fox rebelled against her trust fund by becoming a biker gang Binder. Real edgy stuff."

"It was more fun than attending boring charity galas," Candace defended. "Plus, I learned some seriously useful skills. Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain a dual identity magical binding?"

"So your parents think you've been where?" I asked.

"They know I ran away. But the binding makes it so most people—especially authority figures and Seers—can't connect Donutz the outlaw with Candace the heiress. It's conceptual camouflage." She pulled out a platinum credit card from her wallet, waving it like a flag. "The best part? Daddy never cancelled my credit cards. He was hoping I'd use them so he could track me down."

I stared at the card. "You've had access to funds this entire time, and you were living as a biker?"

"Limited funds," she corrected. "There's only about twenty grand on this particular card and as soon as I use it the Scruts will come after me. Daddy's not completely naive."

"Twenty thousand dollars," I repeated slowly.

"Give or take. Why, need to buy something?"

I thought about my grandfather's burned-out farmhouse, my complete lack of dungeon gear, and the impossible quest hanging over my head like a sword of Damocles.

“I… I'll stay with my parents,” Terry said. “Can you drive me? It's not far.”

I nodded. Indeed, her house wasn't far from the town entrance and she departed quickly after offering Addie and Candace a quick hug.

18: Candace Rhinehart

“Where do you want me to drive you to?” I began.

“We are staying with you, Alpha,” Candace stated. “Our home situation isn't… Optimal.”

"We need a place to stay tonight then," I said, turning back to the remaining ex-bikers. "Somewhere with actual beds and running water. My grandad's farm is unlivable at the moment."

"Ooh, I know just the place!" Candace bounced in her seat. "There's this boutique motel downtown—the Moonshard Inn. Super discreet, caters to delvers who need to lay low. They even have magical privacy wards."

"Sounds expensive," I muttered.

"Relax, Alpha. This one's on me." She waggled the credit card at my face. "Or to be more specific–my parents Estate fund. Consider it my contribution to the pack!"

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the Moonshard Inn, a surprisingly elegant establishment that looked more like a small luxury hotel than a motel. Soft lighting illuminated art deco facades, and I could see gardens visible through wrought iron gates.

Candace handled the check-in with practiced ease, charming the night clerk and securing us a suite with two bedrooms and a living area. As we made our way to the room, I couldn't help but notice the quality of everything—rich carpets, actual artwork on the walls, the kind of place that charged more per night than I made in a month.

"Here we are," Candace announced, sliding the key card and opening the door to reveal a spacious suite decorated in warm earth tones. "Home sweet temporary home."

Adler immediately claimed one of the large couches, collapsing onto it with a groan. "Fuck, that's better. I think I'm bleeding through the bandages again."

"Bathroom's that way," Candace pointed. "Get yourself cleaned up while I talk to our Alpha."

But as soon as the bathroom door closed behind Adler, Candace turned to me with an expression I recognized from earlier—that same predatory intensity, but now mixed with something softer, more vulnerable.

"Alec," she said, stepping closer. "Thank you. For everything tonight. For becoming our Alpha, for not leaving us to bleed out in that field..."

"You don't need to thank me," I said, suddenly very aware of how close she was standing. "I wasn't going to just abandon you."

"I know," she whispered, reaching up to touch my face. "That's what makes you different. That's why I bound you."

“Wait,” I said. “The bond said I belong to… the Skid Marks. If the gang is no more then…?”

“It’s a Dagaz Rune,” Candace shrugged. “It sorts itself out. Check it and find out.”

I pulled up my Stats.

[Personal Status: Bound packmate of Candace Rhinehart and Adler Silvertail.]

“Still bound huh?” I frowned.

“Mhrmmm,” she smiled.

Before I could react, she was kissing me—soft lips against mine, her fox-scent filling my nostrils, claws gently tangling in my hair. For a moment, I found myself responding, the stress and exhaustion of the day giving way to something warmer, more immediate.

Then Nessy's face flashed through my mind—those blue eyes, that distant expression, the way she'd looked at me like I was a stranger. The Well of Severance, stealing away her memories and feelings, turning her into a hollow version of herself.

I pulled back, gently but firmly.

"No," I said. "I can't. I'm sorry, Candace, but... I’m not interested."

“Aw.” Her ears drooped slightly, but she didn't look angry or surprised. "The girl you mentioned earlier? Nessy?"

I nodded.

"Hrmmm. How much is she into you?" Candace asked. “Enough into you to ignore the fact that you’re magically bound to me and Addie?”

"It's… complicated," I sighed. 

"It always is." Candace shrugged, stepping back and giving me space. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me. I'm not going anywhere, Alpha."

The bathroom door opened, revealing Adler in one of the motel's plush bathrobes, her spotted fur still damp but considerably cleaner. The bandages on her shoulder had been changed, and she looked more like herself again—albeit a tired, beaten-down version.

"Room for one or two more in that bathroom," she announced. "Water pressure's actually decent."

“Want me to wash you?” the fox offered me with a grin.

"No. Go ahead," I told Candace, waving her off. "I need to... think."

"Don't think too hard," the fox said with a wink. "Sometimes the best decisions are the ones you don't overthink."

As soon as both pradavarians were in the bathroom—I could hear them talking in low voices, occasionally punctuated by Candace's distinctive laugh—I collapsed onto the suite's king-sized bed. My body finally registered just how exhausted I was. The adrenaline that had been keeping me going since the Magnetic Lynx appeared was finally wearing off, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness that made my limbs feel like lead.

I closed my eyes, just for a moment…

. . . 

When I woke up, pale morning light was filtering through the suite's heavy curtains. I was still fully clothed on top of the covers, but I wasn't alone.

Adler was curled up on my left side, her spotted fur soft against my arm, one of her paws resting possessively across my chest. She'd abandoned the bathrobe for an oversized t-shirt with the Ferguson town logo. Her punk-green mohawk was gone, replaced with soft, pure silver curls. 

On my right, a silver-white fox had somehow managed to curl her entire fox body into the space between me and the edge of the bed, her bushy tail draped across my legs like a blanket. She was wearing absolutely nothing. 

What. 

Who the fuck is this?!

For a moment, I just lay there, trying to process this development. Two pradavarian girls were using me as their personal space heater.

Adler stirred first, her silver eyes opening to meet mine.

"Morning, tater," she purred, making no move to extract herself from my personal space. "Sleep well?"

"Decent," I admitted. "How's your shoulder?"

"Sore, but functional." She stretched carefully, wincing only slightly as the movement pulled at her bandages. 

The silver-white fox chose that moment to wake up, yawning and revealing sharp white teeth before blinking up at me with sleepy gray eyes.

"Mmm, good morning," she mumbled, nuzzling closer to my side. "You make an excellent pillow, Alec."

“Thanks,” I said. “Who are you?”

“Candace,” she grinned.

“You…” I blinked. It took me a minute to recognize her sharp, gray eyes. “You’re silver and gray not… black and orange. You’ve long, curvy silver hair too. And your voice is softer too! How?!”

“I dropped the color and hair binding last night on me and Addie,” she shrugged. “Das’ my natural color n’ fluff. Also dropped the binding on my vocal cords.”

“Okay but how is your hair twice as long?” I demanded.

“Half of my hair was Bound in the Astral,” she smiled. “It’s easier than getting a haircut in the wilds.”

“I see,” I said. “This leads me to my second question—why are you naked?”

“I’m tempting you,” she grinned, sliding out of bed and stretching right in front of me, silver curly hair swaying and sparkling in the early morning light spilling through the windows. “Is it working?”

I let out a weary sigh.

“It’s working on me,” Addie said. “Rawr. Bend over more.”

Candace bent over. She was very curvy in all the right places and very bendy. 

Adler whistled. 

I checked my phone trying not to look at the snickering, naked silver-white fox—7:11 AM.

I shoved myself upright, ignoring the playful banter between Candace and Adler as I swung my legs off the bed. My body ached, but the healing artifacts had done their job—my health bar was sitting at a solid 82%, and the constant pain in my ribs and head was down to a dull throb. My sense of smell was returning in full, I noted.

“We’ve got school in two hours,” I said, cutting through their giggling. “Candace, you’re coming with me. Adler, since you’re expelled, what’s the plan?”

The cheetah flopped back onto the bed, stretching her arms above her head with a lazy yawn. “I dunno. Can hang out here till you two finish classes, I guess.”

“Nu,” Candace said. “You’re coming with us.”

“The hell I am,” Adler growled. “Which part of ‘m’ expelled’ is not percolating in your loopy brain?”

“The not having my mate at my side part,” Candace said. “Commerrrrr.”

Adler walked over to where Candace was standing.

“Off with the shirt,” the fox ordered.

The cheetah pulled her shirt off, revealing curvy and perky… everything. The still quite naked and bandaged up prad fox bit her finger and drew what looked like a sideways number eight on Alder’s chest, directly above her breasts.

I ignored them and went to the bathroom for a quick shower.

When I came out I saw that the floor was decorated in what looked like blood hexagrams converging on a naked Adler standing there. “By Infinity Paradox Proxima,” Candace sang, her entire figure igniting with radiant fractals. “In the name of Number Eight I fractalize, divide your identity by zero and gift onto you a new name, a new life, a new Astral imprint… Adelle Sylvia Dallia!”

The air in the hotel room shimmered with residual magic as the fractals faded from around Candace's form. Adler blinked in confusion, looking down at the fading blood hexagrams surrounding her feet.

"What the shit did you just do to me?" she asked. “Why am I… orange?”

"Gave you a new identity," Candace said matter-of-factly, licking her bleeding finger. "Bound my blood to your fur to permanently tint it. Meet Adelle Sylvia Dallia, transferrrrr student from the Northern Territories. Ta da!"

I stared at both of them. "You can just... create fake identities with magic?"

"Not fake," Candace corrected, pulling on the hotel bathrobe. "Fractalized. I split Adler's conceptual existence and created a parallel identity branch. To people, System and Astral scanners, Adelle Dallia is now a completely different person who happens to look somewhat similar-ish to Adler Silvertail. Different Astral imprint.

“Can you rewrite yourself again? Rewrite my identity?” I wondered.

“I already split myself into Donutz and Candace,” Candace sighed. “One split is already too much effort. And no, I can’t do that to anyone anytime I want to. I could split you in a month, maybe, if you really need a new identity. Blood magic of this magnitude spends blood, soul and life.”

“Isn’t the body always producing new blood?” I asked.

“Look Alec it’s a lot more complicated than that,” Candace said. “Fractalization takes ages to reload and I just spent what I had. It’s mega rarrrrrre.”

“Like my Reconstitution then,” I concluded. “Got it.”

I heard a knock on the door and opened it. A prad dog delivery man handed me a large cardboard box and departed.

“Aww yusss, the clothes I ordered last night got delivered from the shops!” Candace clapped, slicing the box up. “Dress, dress!”

“When did you even…” I began.

“Called up a shopping and delivery service while you were snoring,” she bobbed.

She threw a plastic-sealed green and black outfit and vibrant lime-green Jaguar-V running shoes at me.

“How do you…” I began.

“I checked your boot size and guesstimated the rest,” she said. “That’s hexamesh magitek fabric. It’ll adjust to your figure, no worries. It's green to match your eyes, yay.”

19: Breakfast Scrutiny

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in a cozy café called The Perched Owl, sharing an oversized breakfast platter that Candace had insisted on ordering. The place had clearly been designed with pradavarians in mind—high-backed metal chairs that accommodated tails, reinforced furniture, and a menu that catered to both carnivorous dietary needs.

‘Adelle’ was systematically demolishing a stack of meat-heavy pancakes while Candace picked delicately at fruit and steak, wearing a silver dress and leather choker with the Slayer’s cross hanging from it.

I glanced at Candace occasionally, my mind refusing to believe that this adorable, sophisticated-looking, silver-white fox with a large, puffy, white tail was the dark-haired, tough, bossy biker prad that I met yesterday. The leather choker and cross truly sold her as “THE Good Girl Nazarite” image.

Eventually, I allowed myself to feel hungry for the first time in years and started to work my way through coffee, eggs and toast with genuine appetite.

"So what's the backstory?" I asked between bites. "If anyone asks about Adelle's background?"

"Transfer student from Whitehorse Academy in the Northern Territories," Candace replied without missing a beat. "Family moved south for business opportunities. Standard stuff—boring enough that no one will dig too deep."

"And if they run a background check?"

"Background checks are generally done via the Astral cast cus dungeons sometimes chew up network lines. The fractalization and binding creates a quantum probability shadow," she explained, waving her fork. "The deeper someone looks, the more real the identity becomes. It's self-reinforcing paradox magic. Same stuff I tagged you with. Prad Seers think they’re hot shit. They presume that the Astral Ocean is their playground, a dead place filled with dead information. They’re wrong. It’s full of living, extradimensional bulshit. Bullshit that folds into itself at just the right pressure. Loops within loops. The harder you push, the more fractals manifest. Information within information born from information. I bind information sharks together, ke ke ke."

Adelle snorted. "Just say 'it's complicated magic bullshit' and move on, Candy. You always over-explain when you're nervous."

"What? I'm not nervous!" Candace protested, though her tail was swishing rapidly. “Why would I be…”

A black bloodhound in a long gray coat and dark, reflective glasses approached our table. His amber eyes held the sharp, calculating gleam I'd learned to associate with professional magic users, and there was something about his posture and wide shoulders that screamed "authority figure."

Candace fell silent.

"Miss Rhinehart," he said in a deep, measured voice. "Your father has been quite concerned."

Candace's fork paused halfway to her mouth, her entire body going rigid. "Oh. Hi, Goobs! How’s the fam?"

"Goebel Sartre," the bloodhound corrected with mild reproach, though there was fondness in his tone. "Scrutimancer First Class, in service to the Rhinehart Estate." He turned those penetrating amber eyes on me and Adler. "And you would be?"

"Das’ Alec," Candace answered. "And this is Adelle. They’re cool transfer students from up North. I met them both recently!”

Goebel's nose twitched slightly as he processed our scents, but his expression remained neutral. Professional.

"I'm relieved to see you safe, Miss Rhinehart," he continued, turning back to the fox. "Your disappearance caused quite a stir. Your father hired every bounty hunter and Scrut from here to the Eastern Reaches but had no luck finding you."

Candace set down her fork, her eyes not quite meeting his gaze. "I told him I needed space, Goobs. Just... a little vacation from all the family drama."

"A vacation that lasted several months," Goebel observed dryly. "Without any communication. Your mother was beside herself."

"I'm fine, as you can see," Candace replied, gesturing at herself. "Perfectly healthy, no missing limbs, not possessed by Astral Phantoms or whatever worst-case scenario Daddy cooked up this time."

The Scrutimancer sighed. "Candace, your father's concerns were not unfounded. A young pradavarian of your... particular talents... disappearing without a trace in these times? There are… people that would pay handsomely for a Binder of your caliber."

“A Binder who can bind themselves from notice is impossible to catch, Goobie,” Candace said. “Did you manage to catch me?”

Goebel frowned.

“Exactly! Anyhow, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine," Candace said, her voice taking on that brittle cheerfulness I was beginning to recognize as her defensive mechanism. "In fact, I'm going back to school today. Going to finish Advanced Delving n’ stuff.”

"And your living arrangements?" Goebel pressed gently.

“I rented a room for now, as you probably found out by tracking my card use,” Candace's tail gave a sharp twitch. "For a longer arrangement, I'll figure something out. Maybe the dorms, maybe rent a loft near Ferguson H. I'm eighteen, Goobs. Legally an adult."

"Candace," the bloodhound's voice carried a note of gentle reproach, "your father would very much like you to come home.”

"Ye, I bet he does," Candace muttered.

Goebel sighed again, a sound that seemed to come from the depths of his chest. "Your father misses you. As does your mother. They're willing to discuss... accommodations... regarding your need for independence."

“Not interested,” Candace said. “I know how it starts. The noose is loose then it tightens when I least expect it. Tell my parents that I’m alive, happy and back home to finish my education— that’s all they need to know. If they bother me at school or attempt to sabotage my delving career again with their incessant demands, I will Bind myself to another identity and leave Ferguson forever this time. Like you said—Binders of my caliber are a rare breed. If I feel like it, I might have dinner with them in a nice restaurant to catch up on my life. But not alone and not soon, on the account of how irate I am with Daddy. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” the Scrutimancer said, his frown deepening.

"Goobs," Candace said, her voice taking on a sadder, more vulnerable tone. "I can't come home. Not yet. Maybe not ever. You know why."

Something passed between them, some shared understanding that excluded the rest of us. Goebel's expression softened, and for a moment, he looked less like an intimidating magical investigator and more like a concerned uncle.

"I know," he said quietly. "But running away won't solve anything, Candace. You know that."

“I’m not running now,” she pointed out. “I’m back. For now. Don’t push me.”

"Very well," he said. "I'll inform your father that you're safe and attending school. If you need anything, anything at all, you have my contact information."

"Yeah, Goobs. Thank you. Actually… I do need something.”

“Yes?”

“Armor,” she said. “I’ll need delving class armor. For myself and my new besties.” She waved a silver-white hand at us. “Scan our dimensions and try to get the best stuff. Use my account to pay for it. I’ll bind it to us for tonight’s practice.”

“I… very well,” the dog said. His eyes flashed silver.

“You…” He choked.

“I bound us into a pack,” she smiled. “It’s not System-officiated. It’s my binding, don’t look so concerned! My old delving team probably hates me and wouldn’t want me working with them today. These newbies also don’t have a team. Get the armor by lunch, okay?”

“Very well,” Goebel let out. “I’ll see you at lunch with your… armor order then.”

“See ya then,” Candace nodded.

The Scrutimancer turned to leave, then paused, dropping back into a semi-official speech tone. "Oh, Miss Rhinehart? That identity fractalization work on your… friend is quite impressive. Very clean conceptual division. Solid color binding too. Your tutors would be proud."

With that parting shot—proving he'd seen right through Adelle's magical disguise—he walked away, leaving our table in stunned silence.

"Hmpf," Adelle voiced, "that was… concerning. Fucker saw right through your magical loopery.”

"Eh, he's not so bad," Candace murmured, though her appetite seemed to have vanished. "Course he saw through it. He knows you too well and he taught me a lot of this stuff. That was a clever deduction/guess, not an actual scan. Also, your new identity loop isn’t very strong yet. It’ll grow stronger in time, don’t fret.”

"What did he mean about ‘the underlying problem’?" I asked.

Candace was quiet for so long I thought she wasn't going to answer. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded rather timid.

"My magic," she said. "The binding, the fractalization... It's not exactly normal. Most Binders work with physical materia—fusing metals, connecting point A to point B, basic stuff. But I can also bind abstract concepts, create paradoxes, split reality into parallel probability streams."

“And that’s… bad?” I asked.

"Daddy wants to sell me off, Alec. Not literally, but... there are corporations, government agencies, military contractors who would pay obscene amounts of money for someone with my abilities. He's been fielding offers since I was fifteen."

"And you don't want that," I said. 

"Fucking obviously!" she replied fiercely. "I only want to bind myself to people I care about, not reinforce fucking contracts written by corporate lawyers and greedy government halfwits. I want to use my magic for a greater, higher goal… like making sure that the Lynx doesn't murder everyone in Ferguson. Dungeons don’t want to be bound with gates and walls, but if I work for corpos that’s all I’ll be doing—making rich prads richer while making enemies with extradimensional entities. Do you think I want a thing like the Magnetic Lynx breathing down my neck in the Astral? People don’t see Astral loops like I do, Alec. They don’t seem to get that it'll only take one extra-active, pissed off Legendary Sentinel like the Lynx to dismantle our entire civilization in a blink of an eye.”

She wiped her gray eyes with the back of her paw.

"So yeah, I ran away. Joined a biker gang. Lived free for a few months. And now..." She gestured at the three of us. "Now I’ve got a new pack. New challenges. New… old problems. Ugh.”

. . .

After breakfast, we made a stop at an upscale print shop called Gilded Impressions—the kind of place that catered to Ferguson's wealthy elite who needed gold-plated business cards printed quickly at a premium price. While Candace claimed a workstation in the back, ostensibly to "print some delving-related materials," Adelle sauntered up to the front counter where a young male wolf clerk was manning the register.

"Hey there, handsome," she purred, leaning against the counter with practiced ease. "What's a girl gotta do to get some quality cards printed around here?"

The clerk's ears perked up immediately, his attention laser-focused on the attractive cheetah in front of him. "Oh, uh, well we do custom business cards, letterhead, wedding invitations..."

I watched as Adelle worked her charm, keeping the staff thoroughly distracted while mechanical whirring and printing sounds came from the back area where Candace was working. Silver fox fingers flew across a computer keyboard, and I caught glimpses of official-looking documents appearing on screen—transcripts, recommendation letters, transfer authorizations.

"And what about gold-flake embossed finishes?" Adelle was asking, batting her eyelashes. "I just love the way embossed cards feel between your fingers..."

Fifteen minutes later, Candace emerged with a neat stack of papers and manila folders, looking supremely satisfied with herself. She approached the counter where Adelle was still flirting with the increasingly flustered clerk.

"All done!" Candace announced brightly, sliding a gold credit card across the counter. "Just bill me for whatevs I sent through, thanks."

The clerk barely glanced at the $500 receipt as he processed the payment, too distracted by Adelle's proximity to bother to check what Candace even printed. Candace's gold Visa card and a big tip to the clerk handled everything without any question.

"You two are dangerous," I muttered as we walked back to my car, Candace clutching her folder of freshly minted identity documents.

"We can be," Candace bobbed, the Slayer sword-cross bouncing above her chest. “With the right… motivation.”

The drive to Ferguson High took less than ten minutes through the morning traffic. As we pulled into the student parking lot, I noticed several pradavarians doing double-takes at the sight of my ancient, rust-pitted Pontiac carrying two very attractive female passengers in their lavish late summer outfits. 

"Ready?" I asked as we climbed out.

"Sure," Adelle replied, adjusting her pure white dress featuring flower patterns woven with magic-crafted diamond dust.

The administration building wasn’t too busy. The same fox secretary sat behind the front desk, but her bored expression shifted to wide-eyed shock as she recognized both my companions.

"Miss Rhinehart," she stammered, rising from her chair. "But you're... how are you...? And who might you be?” She turned to Addie.

"I’m Adelle Sylvia Dallia," Addie said with a yawn. "Transfer student. These are my school transfer documents."

The secretary's eyes darted between the papers Addie handed over and Adelle's face, clearly struggling to recall if she's seen this cheetah girl before.

"Hold on. I'll... I'll let the Principal know," she managed, rapidly tapping on her keyboard. 

She looked at the screen in about a minute. “Okay, Principal Kerberos will see you. Go ahead.

. . .

The ancient mastiff's weathered face showed no surprise whatsoever as he surveyed our little group as we entered.

"Ah, Mr. Foster," he said with what might have been approval. "I see you've assembled a delving team."

"Sir?" I blinked, not sure where this was going.

"Come in and sit, all of you." He gestured. "We should discuss your new… academic arrangements."

Once we were seated across from his massive redwood desk, Principal Kerberos steepled his fingers and regarded us with those sharp, ancient eyes.

"Miss Rhinehart," he began, "welcome back to Ferguson High. I trust your... vacation... was educational?"

"Very educational, sir," Candace replied without missing a beat. “Really needed a break.”

"And Miss Dallia," he continued, turning to Adelle. "What brings you to our humble institution?"

"My family's business relocated," Adelle said, sliding into her cover story. "Northern Territories got too cold for my taste."

Principal Kerberos nodded slowly, though I could have sworn I saw the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Of course. And naturally, you both wish to join Mr. Foster in the Advanced Dungeoneering curriculum?"

"Naturally," both girls replied in unison.

"Excellent." The old dog made a note on a tablet. "I do so appreciate students who understand the value of... practical education."

Something in his tone made my skin crawl, but before I could ask what he meant, he was standing and gesturing toward the door.

"Your first class begins in fifteen minutes," he said. "Do try to make a good impression on Professor Fern. She has such high standards for her students."

We filed out of the office. The secretary handed the two girls their printed schedules.

Once we were out in the hallway, I pulled out my phone to check the time and noticed a notification explosion on my Pradstagram—dozens of missed messages from Kristi, all timestamped from late last night and a few from early this morning.

[✨Stellaris]: Alec where the hell are you??? 

[✨Stellaris]: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

[✨Stellaris]: WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING ME

[✨Stellaris]: You better not be in the fucking Highway 69 dungeon

[✨Stellaris]: The gate guards said you left town

[✨Stellaris]: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ALEC

The messages continued in that vein, growing increasingly frantic and angry, until they abruptly stopped around 1 AM. Then, much later, at around 4 AM, just one final message:

[✨Stellaris]: im so sorry pls dont hate me

My chest tightened reading that last message. I could picture her sitting in her glider somewhere over the wilderness, probably beating herself up over the quest binding while I was sleeping in a luxury hotel suite.

[Alecai🌲]: i dont hate u

I typed back quickly, then added:

[Alecai🌲]: see you in class?

The typing indicator appeared almost immediately.

[✨Stellaris]: yes

[✨Stellaris]: hi

[✨Stellaris]: am already there

"Everything alright?" Candace asked, glancing at me.

"Yep," I said, pocketing the phone. "Just… friend stuff. Come on, let's go face whatever Professor Fern has in store for us."