Stupid Sexy Cryptids [20-24] (Patreon)

20: Outside Boxes

"Thinking slower has advantages," I said, leaning closer to examine North's semi-transparent crystalline skin. "Concealment, for one. If you're operating at a different temporal frequency than everyone else, you might become invisible to detection."

"That's ridiculous," North said.

"Is it? Think about it. The Scruts smell thoughts, right? What if thoughts moving at tree-speed don’t register as thoughts at all. Just background noise. Static. Plus, if you're thinking out of sync with others..." I traced a finger along the latticework pattern on her arm. It felt like I was touching a crystal surface, not human skin. "You might slip through their mental nets entirely."

"NO TOUCHING VAMPIRE VEGETABLE!" Shady growled, inserting herself between me and North. "NO TOUCH! EMPEROR MINE!"

"I'm just examining her," I said.

"EXAMINING IS SUSPICIOUS CIRCLE!" Shady's tail lashed. "Vampire trying to square my circle! BEEP!"

I rolled my eyes at her. "North, how do you make your thralls?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity. Also, I want to understand what you're capable of."

North sighed. "I inject crystalline spores into recently deceased bodies acquired from the morgue. The spores create a basic network and animate the corpse, responding to basic orders. They're extensions of my will, but... dumb, since their brains have decayed. Limited. Can only follow simple commands. They don’t remember their past lives if you’re wondering."

"Commands like 'grab the human'?"

"Essentially."

“I see,” I said. “Could you graft dead flesh to yourself and make the thralls think at a slower frequency too?”

“What?” North sputtered. “Maybe... I mean, I'd have to modify the spores at the start... to operate on a different frequency. Why would I want slower thralls?”

“It might help hide what you are from the scruts,” I said. “Maybe you can hide inside a dead bear or alligator. Fleshpunk armor!”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” North commented. “What the fuck, dude? You want me to live… in a dead bear moving like a sloth or something?”

“If it works, I don’t see why not. I see that vampires aren’t very flexible in conceptual thoughts,” I fired back. “I guess that being immortal makes you a conservative critter? Is it hard to think outside the box when you’re made from crystalline boxes?”

North opened and closed her mouth like a fish. 

“What exactly would your family do if they manage to escape through the dimensional gate? Where would they go?" I wondered.

North's jaw tightened. "Away. Somewhere safer than a world being actively taken over by Omnids."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only answer you're getting."

Shady's head snapped toward North, teeth bared. "EXPIRED MILK CIRCLES! TRUTH OR NOM!"

She opened her jaws wide, moving them toward North's head with glacial slowness, giving the vampire plenty of time to appreciate the approaching rows of large, white Wendigo teeth.

"Okay! Okay!" North yelped. “I’ll talk!”

“Start with the coordinates of your family’s bunker.” I growled. "I'd like to... check it out from afar, make sure you aren't lying to me."

“47.779402, -123.732432,” North whispered. “South Fork Hoh River... At the foot of Mount Olympus.”

“Thanks," I typed out the location into Goodle maps, saving it. "Think that Shady could take on your family?"

"Mmmm... no. As fast and strong as she is, we have multiple layers of wards that can withstand a nuclear blast and hundreds of armed thralls. Plus grandfather's body is extra dense and he has arcane weapons."

"I see. Now tell me, what would your family do after running away from my Earth.”

"We'd... we'd find a new world and establish ourselves there. Happy?"

"Elaborate," I demanded.

"What's to elaborate? We'd survive."

"How?"

North squirmed in her chains. "We'd... multiply. Establish a new base. Build up our numbers. Make tools and thralls."

"By infecting the local population?"

"If we can’t find fresh corpses… Yes."

"So you’d eat people?"

"We have to feed and defend ourselves somehow! Most worlds are fucked sideways, don’t have expired donor blood or morgues to procure Thrall bodies with some gold," North snapped. "And we reproduce through conversion. It's our nature."

"So you'd become conquerors yourselves. Just like the Frontenachii, but with extra steps."

"It's not the same!"

"Isn't it?" I crossed my arms. "You flee one group of colonizers only to become colonizers yourselves?”

North sighed. “Everyone wants to survive, don’t judge us. We'd only colonize a town at most, not an entire planet!”

"Couldn't you colonize an entire planet?"

"Urm... maybe? Generally there are things that want to eat us... or would be opposed to such."

"In a theoretical scenario of no other predators could you infect an entire planet."

"Uuhhh... I guess?"

“Are you an individual or part of a network?” I asked.

“The mega low Aetheric density of this world makes me more... individual. Less connected. On other worlds, places with less dense Astral, I'd be more like a branch of a tree. Part of the greater organism. Here, I can think for myself and make my own choices… like an idiot who got herself tied to a chair." She lamented.

"So in another world you’d be more subservient to the elder vampires like your grandfather?"

“Yes.” Her face twitched. "Grandfather is... dominating, knows more. Even with the weak connection here he's our leader. On a world with stronger Aetheric density, he'd subsume us all. We'd become his hands, extensions of his will."

"Charming family dynamic,” I said. “Glad I asked before becoming a vamp branch.”

"It's survival," North said bitterly. "Other worlds aren't like this Earth. They're dangerous. Filled with magic, monsters and many horrid, competing species. To survive, we'd have to fight our way to the top of whatever hierarchy exists there. Grandfather wouldn't hesitate. He'd convert, consume, conquer until we were safe. Acting together as one is essential for victory. We'd be free to do stuff on our own after the territory becomes secure."

"Right, except you’d become the monsters others flee from."

“Everyone is someone’s monster. Humans kill humans too, you know.”

“They’re called murderers and we try to keep them out of civil society.”

“Your world doesn't have the System. It is safe, but this also makes you weak.” The vampire girl huffed.

I studied her for a long moment. "North, I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Slow down. Stop thinking. Suspend yourself until I tell you otherwise."

"What? No! I..."

"It's that or Shady eats you right now."

"EAT!" Shady snapped her jaw, raising a large furry fist. "VAMPIRE SMOOTHIE! CRUNCH CRUNCH!"

North's eyes darted between us. "You can't just—"

"I can and I will. Slow yourself down. Become dormant. I'll wake you when I need you with a poke." I pulled a safety pin from the bathroom drawer. "You’d feel being poked with a needle, right? When I stab you with this needle, resume normal thought. Until then, stop thinking, be a statue."

"I don't want to—"

Shady let out a threatening growl.

"Fine!" North gasped. "Fine. But if something happens while I'm suspended—"

"Nothing bad will happen. You'll be perfectly safe. Probably safer than you've ever been, honestly."

North closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed, then stopped entirely. The subtle movements of her body emulating a human girl ceased. She became utterly still, like a photograph, a statue of herself.

"Is she suspended?" I asked Shady.

Shady leaned in close, then suddenly licked North's crystalline cheek with her absurdly long tongue. "TASTE LIKE ROCK CIRCLE! Vampire vegetable is frozen square! BEEP! Safe!"

"Good." I grabbed the Tommy gun. "Let's go."

We left North in the bathroom, looking like the world's most elaborate crystal statue of a girl chained to a chair, covered in soap bubbles.

Back in the bedroom, I collapsed onto my bed, feeling utterly drained. Every muscle ached from being slammed into the porch. My tablet showed dozens of messages from the growing resistance cells. I catalogued them into "want to kill" and "want to kiss" aliens folder categories. It was good to have variety of minions to do a variety of jobs in the future.

"EMPEROR NAP CIRCLE!" Shady observed, immediately wrapping herself around me like a fuzzy, antlered body pillow. "Shady-circle towel fort!"

“Thanks Shades,” I yawned.

I checked in with each lieutenant while Shady made happy purring noises against my shoulder. She radiated heat like a living furnace, fur only slightly damp either due to being hydrophobic or due to some other Wendigo anatomy factor.

The reports were encouraging but highlighted a bothersome gap: nobody else managed to get a Voicecast ring from the Prads yet. The Warsaw team's success with Alpha Linari seemed to be a lucky fluke, a combination of Polish alcohol, furry costumes and perhaps StormoLyx's natural charm or genuine appreciation for that particular Pradavarian Scrut.

Either way, I had a single pawn on hand that could become a Queen. The only question was… how exactly could I guide him without exposing myself or the Warsaw resistance cell?

I considered the problem, spinning it in my head.

The Scruts could smell lies. If StormoLyx knew he was talking to the Emperor, Linari could sniff such knowledge out of his head. But if he believed something else entirely…

My mind clicked. I sent a pm to Napoleon.

[Emperor of Earth ಠ_ಠ]: Need StormoLyx's coordinator’s telegram ID. Want to plan out some things directly with them.

[Napoleon (ᕗ ͠° ਊ ͠° )ᕗ]: How should I introduce you to her, my Emperor? 

I quickly typed the response with my instructions.

[Napoleon (ᕗ ͠° ਊ ͠° )ᕗ]: Aight. Here's her ID. They're all passed out rn and I'm about to crash too. Been up for like 26+ hours

[Emperor of Earth ಠ_ಠ]: Get some rest. You've done excellent work so far.

[Napoleon (ᕗ ͠° ਊ ͠° )ᕗ]: thx Emperor. ttyl

"Emperor thinking... beep! Big circles," Shady mumbled against my neck, her breath warm. "Sleep circle. No inner voice plot squares. Just BEEP! dreams."

Her purring intensified, the vibration hypnotic, relaxing to a ridiculous degree. Even though she was a massive alien invader from another dimension, she was a link to my no longer suppressed, carefree past. I had to admit that Shady had always been my most trusted, sweetest childhood friend.

Even now, with her mind was scrambled by brain spiders she fiercely defended me from North’s Thralls, saved me from becoming a vampire.

Tomorrow, I would deal with the local vampire infestation problem… permanently and level up my pawn at the same time.

. . .

-=[Piotr Grabowski]=-

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Piotr jolted awake, his head pounding with the aggressive knocking. He felt like his brain had been replaced with noodles, cotton wool and glass soaked in vodka.

"STORM-O! OPEN UP! IT IS I, YOUR WITCHY HALLUCINATION!"

He recognized Anka's voice through the door. Groaning, he stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping over his lynx suit crumpled on the floor. Memories of giant wolf women and spider-guns flickered through his hangover fog.

"Coming," he croaked, fumbling with the locks.

The door flew open the moment he turned the last one. Anka stood there in a black dress and green zentai gloves. Fancier green mask with an elongated snout, fluffy ears and pointy hat concealed her face. She was rapidly upscaling her new cosplay.

"Finally! Do you know what time it is?" The Witch barged past him into his apartment.

"Time for more sleep?" Piotr mumbled, checking his phone.

2:11PM. 

Shit. He'd missed three calls from work.

"You had enuff sleeps, dawg. Come here and gimme your ear." She grabbed his face, tilting his head sideways.

"What are you—"

Something waxy was shoved into his ear. He tried to pull back but Anka held him firm.

"Don't touch it," she commanded. 

“Anka, what the hell is going on?” He demanded.

"You know how important it is that we make friends with aliens, yes?" She declared. "Super important!”

“I know! What’d you just shove into my ear?”

“A micro-sub-vocalization chip.”

“Huh? Why?”

“It’s a thing my bestie from MIT wants to test out for her thesis. Have you read about Subvocalization? Goodle it! It’s silent speech, the internal monologue typically made when reading. Basically the chip is going to amplify your OWN internal monologue and cast it back to you from the micro-speaker. Simply put, you’re going to hear your personal thoughts in your head. Got it?”

“Fine, whatever,” Piotr yawned and submitted to the persistent girl, feeling worn out and befuddled.

“Backpack,” Anka said, pulling a large, orange backpack off herself. “Stuff inside is labelled. Vodka, beer, candy, manga books, sandwiches with various spices. Fun things for you and your alien GF! Got it? Good.”

“Spices?” Piotr repeated, confused by the waterfall of her words. “Manga?”

“A variety of tasty and cool stuff yo wolf girl might like.” The Witch nodded. “We all want to know what the aliens are allergic to and what they love/hate. You think that you’re the only one who wants to date an alien?”

Piotr tried to think through the fog of his hangover. It was difficult.

Anka was someone he trusted. Over the years she made sure that their local small furry convention was running smoothly and without issues, solved problems on the fly. It was possible that she, or one of their other, awesome, inexplicably wealthy friends was helping him out, making sure he didn’t make a fool of himself when it came to dating an alien girl.

"If you score, we all score later," the Witch explained.

Piotr nodded agreeing with her logic and glanced at the clock again. Anka offered him Advil and a bottle of water. He accepted both gratefully.

“Go shower, you smell like a rotting potato,” she ordered.

“Fine,” Piotr scratched his chest and walked off into the shower. 

He emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, spotting Anka on his couch, cleaning his fursuit with dry shampoo.

“I completely forgot about work.” He let out.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anka said, stuffing a sandwich into his mouth. “I’ve cleaned and added some extra stuff to your suit. Don't mess with it. Also, you’re on vacation now. Then you’re probably fired. Already called your boss and let him know.”

“What?!” Piotr choked on the sandwich.

21: Inner Voice

“Dude,” The Wicked Witch snapped her fingers in front of Piotr’s face. “Focus. You’re dating an alien now. This is serious First Contact stuff! Fuck your basic-ass AI grunge work. Aliens!!!”

“I…” Piotr coughed and was offered another bottle of water. “But…”

“Don’t worry about your bills and stuff. Our new furrycon sponsors are covering it,” Anka revealed.

“Covering what?” Piotr blinked.

“Łapkowisko 2025!” Anka declared. 

“What? But… Łapkowisko was supposed to happen in December. I don’t understand.”

“It’s just started. Right now. It’ll go on for as long as wolf aliens are inhabiting Warsaw. For the duration of this… furrycon, you are financially supported by all of us. Your new job is to be… you!”

“To be… me?”

“The best version of you you can be!” The Witch bobbed. “StormoLyx, forever! Don’t you want to be StormoLyx longer, dude?”

“Who’s us?”

“Me and a few others,” Anka pointed at her green mask. “Your best friends. Plus, my bestie who wants to test her sub-vocalizer chip in a cool situation. You get paid as Alpha-tester! Easy work! Kay. I’m off. Let me know how your date goes! Write up a report on how well the sub-vocalization chip works, listen to your own mental advice and stuff, yeah? Easy peasy, yes?”

"Your advance!" Anka shoved a thick wallet into his arms and flashed out of his apartment before Piotr could formulate a coherent comment.

Piotr opened the wallet. It was stuffed full of cash. Crispy euros and US dollar bills. There were a few prepaid VISA cards there too. 

“Lucky you,” a voice spoke in his ear. “All that cash.”

“What, who?” Piotr spun around.

“Hello StormoLyx. I'm your internal monologue.”

“W-Huh?”

“I am your personal, innermost thoughts,” the voice sounded exactly like his own.

"What the fuck?” Piotr stammered out.

“I'm you. Your Consciousness. The part of you that thinks strategically, that notices patterns and assists in your… life decisions.”

“This is some whack shit, but aight.” Piotr let out.

“Pat yourself on the back. You successfully befriended an alien wolf soldier. You got her personal contact information. Part of you knew exactly what to do, how to act. I'm that part.” His own voice resumed in his ear. “Linari gave you a Voicecast ring. You're going to call her. You already know what to say.”

“I do?” Piotr blinked, wondering why his internal monologue spoke English and not Polish. Maybe that was because some American MIT egghead designed it. Maybe it was CrawdGPT powered or something? Whatever.

“You want to be Alpha Linari’s friend,” the internal monologue resumed. “Her guide to Earth. You're fascinated by her, attracted to her strength, curious about her world. These are your genuine feelings, aren't they?”

They were. Piotr had spent a few hours before passing out last night thinking about those large copper-gold eyes, barely able to believe that someone like that could exist.

“Yes,” he answered with a yawn. “Linari is really something special, I’ve never met anyone like her.”

“Good. When you talk to her, remember: You genuinely want to help her understand Earth. You want to show her the beauty and complexity of our world, the depth of our culture.”

“Yeah. That sounds about right,” Piotr agreed.

“You succeeded in befriending her because you’re someone who builds bridges between worlds. Someone who saw a lonely soldier far from home and wanted to give her comfort. That's the real you.”

Piotr nodded.

“Call her and offer to be her tour guide. Show her Warsaw's museums, bookstores, cafes. Your friends gave you a backpack with snacks and plenty of cash for fun. See what affects her, understand what she likes. Take notes on her reactions, understand her not because anyone told you to, but because you're naturally curious about her biology.”

“Heh, yeah, sure. I am definitely curious about her.” Piotr agreed, deciding to roll it.

“Exactly,” his consciousness stated. “You're a programmer. You debug LLM frontends for a living. Understanding Linari is just another system to figure out. And if certain substances make her more relaxed, more happy… Well, you want her to be happy, don't you?”

“I… do.”

“Remember: I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. I'm just helping you organize your thoughts. When Linari reads your mind—and she absolutely will—she'll smell only your genuine desire to be her friend or perhaps… more. Make her happy and she’ll be yours. Your future girlfriend from space. That's the absolute truth.”

“This is kind of fun,” Piotr chortled. “It's like having my thoughts laid out for me.”

“That's exactly what this is. Now, you should call Linari. Hopefully she will remember you after her late night binge. If she doesn’t, remind her to check the photo her gun took.” 

“Right.” Piotr looked at the Voicecast ring on his table. He did want to message the wolf girl.

“Thanks… me,” he said.

“You're welcome. Remember: I'm here when you need clarity. Just your own consciousness, your own mental voice reaching out when the most important decisions need to be made. Get dressed as StormoLyx. Your future awaits.”

Piotr put on his comicon outfit and looked at the large crystalline ring and pulled it onto his suit’s index finger. 

"Voicecast Linari," he brought it to his face, speaking as clearly as he could.

The ring flashed and warmed slightly, then he heard a groan through it.

"Ughhhhh, who's callin’ me at… hold on.”

The ring vibrated, projecting a sleepy-looking face of the Scrutimancer Prad in the air. The head of the holographic wolf girl yawned, displaying a huge maw filled with sharp teeth and then stared at him.

"Do I... know you?" Linari squinted. "Who are you and why do you have my Pradstagram number? Wait. You look kinda familiar but... Ow. My head."

"We met last night at Molly Malone's," Piotr reminded the wolf girl. "I'm StormoLyx."

"Lynx... lynx..." Linari yawned again. "Etty! ETTY! Who is calling me?"

From somewhere off-screen, a metallic voice responded with a pitch of exasperation: "The small, possibly venomous predator you propositioned for future mating activities. You made me construct a Voicecast ring from bar fixtures for him last night. Here is a photo of you together last night with the caption…"

"I did WHAT?" Linari choked, ears flattening. "I propositioned a— Oh. Oh, Infinite Abyss." Her ears perked up as she looked back at Piotr. "Stormy! Right… Hi! Sorry, I'm... erm. I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?”

“Order Etty to make you a Voicecast ring. Ughhhh. Slayer, I broke like six protocols. We drank a LOT last night."

"It's okay," Piotr smiled, feeling concerned that his alien gadget would be taken away from him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a ceramic wyvern chewed me up and shat me out," Linari groaned. "Why do your Earth beverages taste so good but hurt so much later?"

"Got a hangover?"

"Hah, yeah. It's TERRIBLE. I love it. Wait, no, I hate it. Both?" She rubbed her temples with her paws. "Why are you calling? Not that I'm not happy! I am! But also sort of dying. Ughhhh."

"I… just wanted to see how you were doing," Piotr said. "And maybe... if you're free today, we could hang out?"

"Hang... out? Like, suspend ourselves from something?" Linari yawned.

"No, it means spend time together. I could show you around Warsaw?"

"Ughhhhh, I'd love to but I have all this stupid work stuff," Linari whined. 

“Oh?”

"Commander Sillicia wants us all searching for dumb things that probably don't exist."

"What kind of things?" Piotr asked.

"Well, priority one is finding the Emperor of Earth's soooper seeeeecret fortress," Linari drawled, rolling her eyes. "Because apparently he rules from a 'Golden Throne' that the Corpse Seeker network calculated must be 'highly magical' based on how many humans think about it, visualizing his golden skull face."

"What else?" Piotr asked.

“The Corpse Seeker network made a priority list. Wanna hear how dumb it is?"

"Sure."

"Etty! List the Priority list.” She ordered.

"Priority One: The One Ring,” the metal voice of her gun began. “Priority Two: Elder Wand. Priority Three: Infinity Stones. Priority Four: The Holy Grail. Priority Five: Excalibur. Priority Six…" 

“See?” Linari groaned. "Do you know how many humans have memories of these dumb artifacts? Way too many! But when we investigate deeper, they're all in different places or don't exist or are 'just movies’ or ‘books’ or ‘made up’. It’s driving me up the wall!”

“Dragonballs, Thor’s Hammer, Philosopher's Stone,” the gun ranted in the background. 

“Etty, that’s enough,” Linari swatted at her gun. “Did the others find Platform 9¾? I thought that that was a decent lead.”

“No. The locals insist it’s 'between platforms 9 and 10' at King's Cross station but ISN'T THERE. Division 943 checked... Seventy two times. There is a cart that’s cut in half… submerged halfway in the wall, there, but there’s no dimensional gate of any kind that we could find. They took the entire wall apart. Nothing. Nada.”

“Ughhhh,” Linari. “We got nothing then?”

“We got nothing across the board, affirmative,” her gun affirmed. “Absolutely nothing. Not a single magical being or artifact was found between planetfall and current time.”

Linari let out a groan of pure exasperation. “I would chew off my arms to find at least one magical thing on this damn planet.”

“Suggest that you can help,” the voice in Piotr’s head stated.

"Maybe, I could help," Piotr said. "I know where all those things are… referenced."

"You DO?" Linari's ears shot up.

"Museums, bookstores, movie theaters," his inner voice supplied the right words. "They're all cultural artifacts. Stories. I could show you where they come from, help you understand why humans think about them so much."

Piotr repeated the words in his head. 

His inner thoughts were so helpful! Praise the Wicked Witch!

"Stories..." Linari frowned. "But people remember them so vividly! Their emotional attachments are real!"

"That's the magic of human storytelling," Piotr shrugged.

"That's..." Linari paused, "actually kind of beautiful? Weird but beautiful."

“Insist to be her guide today.” His inner voice suggested.

"Come on, let me be your guide today," Piotr offered. "I'll help you understand Earth culture, show you why these things matter to us. Hopefully, it'll make your job easier."

Linari's holographic face lit up. "You'd do that? For me?"

"Of course. We're friends now, right?" He offered hopefully.

"Friends," Linari repeated softly. "I... I haven't had a male friend before on a conquered planet. Usually we just sniff out their lies or they run away screaming… or try to bite my head off.”

“Tell her you won’t run away,” his voice stated.

"I'm not running away." Piotr smiled.

"No, you're not," she grinned, showing her sharp teeth. "Okay! Yes! Fine! I’m in. Let's hang out and hunt for magical artifacts that may or may not exist! Give me your address! Describe your residence from the outside."

Piotr rattled off his apartment details, describing the red brick building near Łazienki Park, third floor, window facing the street with the drooping plants on the sill.

"Got it! I'll be there in... uhh, Etty, how long to—"

"Fifteen minutes if you don't take over my control and crash into another building," Etty's voice rattled.

"That was ONE TIME!" The brown wolf groaned. “Okay Stormy, I'll see you soon!”

The projection cut out. Piotr stared at the ring, then at his costumed reflection in the mirror. He was really doing this. Going out with an alien wolf soldier.

"You're doing great so far," his consciousness assured him. "Get ready. Bring the backpack."

Exactly fifteen minutes later, a loud THUMP rattled his window. Piotr spun towards his window. 

Linari sat outside on a sleek, armored, black motorcycle crossed with a stealth bomber, all sharp angles and hexagonal panels. The vehicle floated a few feet from his window, humming ominously, lightning crackling from a blue ring on its side.

"Permission to enter your dwelling?" Linari called through the glass.

"You could just use the door—"

"Your doors are small and puny!" Linari grabbed at the window frame, pulling it up with a loud crack of obliterated internal lock. “Commere!”

“Go on,” his consciousness encouraged. “Be brave. One small step for…”

Piotr stepped forward. Linari reached in and pulled him through the window onto the vehicle, positioning him in front of herself.

"Is this thing safe?" Piotr asked as the glider tilted slightly.

“I’m not a thing,” Etty’s voice came from the panel in front of him, three red eyes igniting.

"Yep. Das my Etty," Linari laughed.

"You turned your gun into a motorcycle?" He blinked.

"She's very versatile! Aren't you, Etty?" Linari grinned. 

"I am a highly sophisticated symbiote weapon," the vehicle grumbled beneath them. "I can be inserted into a variety of frames to do a variety of jobs.”

“Complement the gun,” his internal voice suggested.

22: Datamancer

“Wow, that’s neat,” Piotr said. “You’re really cool and nice, Etty. I’ve never met a gun like you. Mostly because our guns don’t talk.”

The gun made out an odd noise, as if it had never been complemented and had no idea how to respond.

“Compliment the gun’s owner and the gun,” the voice added.

“Your owner’s pretty damn cool too,” Piotr said. “Both of you are…”

“Incredible, wicked, awesome.” His internal monologue suggested.

“Absolutely incredible,” Piotr let out.

A strong, armoured arm wrapped itself around him. They shot through the Warsaw sky at a speed that made Piotr's stomach lurch. Below, he could see people pointing up at them, some taking photos.

"Where to, my lovely guide?" Linari asked over the whoosh of the displaced air.

"There's a café I know," Piotr managed. "Między Nami. Great coffee, quiet atmosphere."

"Coffee! Yes! Maybe it'll help with this headache! Guide me!"

They landed in an alley behind the café, Etty transforming back into gun form with a series of mechanical clicks and whirs, emerging from the innards of the bike frame. Linari holstered her onto her hip clip and pulled the folded up flying bike frame onto her back like an oversized backpack.

"Do I look okay?" Linari asked suddenly, smoothing down her brown mane. "I probably still smell like vodka and regrets."

"You look great," Piotr said honestly. 

Even hungover, she was magnificent—almost seven feet of muscle, absurd curves and an inhumanly big smile.

Inside the café, the barista gaped at the massive wolf woman, nearly dropping the drinks she was carrying.

They claimed a corner booth, Linari barely fitting inside. Piotr ordered coffee and pierogi while Linari studied the menu with intense concentration.

"What's a 'cheese-cake'?" she asked. "Is it cheese or cake?"

"Both, sort of."

"Your world’s very silly," she declared. "I'll take three!”

“Offer her drinks from the backpack,” the voice in his head suggested. “It’ll help with her hangover.”

“Hey, um,” Piotr reached into his backpack. "I brought some things that might help with your hangover."

He pulled out beer, which made Linari groan. 

"Hair of the dog," he explained. "Trust me."

"Hair of... what dog? Huh?"

"Just a local expression."

She chugged the beer and immediately perked up. "Aw yeah, that’s nice. Thanks, Stormy-o.”

“Are you drinking during work hours?” Etty asked. 

“Shhh,” Linari waved an armored hand at the gun. “I need it to think. If I can’t think, I won't be able to find the One Ring or whatever.”

The gun sighed, then suddenly her ring vibrated, flashing red. "Incoming priority communication from Datamancer Kawtha."

"Oh fuck," Linari groaned. "Don't answer—"

Her gun tapped the ring.

A magpie-like humanoid head materialized in the projection, black and white feathers shimmering with emerald-tinted rainbows at the edges.

"Scrutimancer-Alpha Linari Browmin. You missed this morning’s briefing. Your weapon just notified me that you have consumed alcohol during active duty hours. You are two-point-seven kilometers outside your assigned search grid. You are not wearing your regulation helmet. You have shared classified communication technology with an unauthorized local entity. You have—"

"Kawtha, chill I can explain—" Linari started.

"Silence! I am not finished listing infractions." Kawtha's head tilted ninety degrees. "You have utilized your symbiote weapon for non-combat transportation to your current location. You have entered a local consumption establishment without backup. You are currently ingesting non-approved substances. You—" The magpie's head snapped toward Piotr, black eyes evaluating his outfit. “You appear to be fraternizing with the local wildlife during work hours.”

"It's not against regulations to make friends!" Linari protested.

"Section 47, Subsection 12, Paragraph 4 of the Colonial Integration Protocol specifically states that Scrutimancers should maintain professional distance from local fauna until full threat assessment is complete." Kawtha's voice never changed its nasal tone. "My assessment of this world is incomplete. There could be unknown dangers lurking about. You have not completed threat assessment on this local creature. He could be venomous. He could explode. He could be carrying mind parasites."

"He's completely harmless!" Linari protested. “If he wanted to hurt me, I’d smell such intent a mile away. All he wants is…”

“Don’t picture Linari naked,” Piotr inner voice suggested. Piotr failed catastrophically at this job.

Linari let out a barking laugh and grabbed another beer from his backpack.

“What’s so funny, Alpha-Scrut?” Kawtha demanded.

“Nothing,” Linari giggled into the beer. “Absolutely nothing.”

“You there. State your designation and life’s purpose,” Kawtha snapped at Piotr.

“Storm-o-Lynx,” his inner voice said. “My current job is trying really hard not to picture Linari naked.”

It was at that moment that Piotr began to regret the Wicked Witch messing with him this morning.

“What?!” Linari choked on her beer.

“I’m StormoLyx,” Piotr let out finally. “My life’s purpose is… I don’t actually know that one. A bit of a tough question, that.”

“Lina! What’s he thinking about?! Is it murder? Betrayal? Trickery?!” Kawtha cawed. 

“Nope, definitely none of those,” Linari shook her head. 

"Human, state your threat level on a scale of one to apocalyptic." Kawtha’s hologram demanded.

“Is Kawthra pretty? How much prettier is Linari? Let's think about this,” his inner voice suggested.

"Uh... zero?" Piotr offered, mentally yelling at his inner voice to shut it. Obviously Linari was prettier. Kawtha seemed incredibly annoying if anything.

Linari barked a laugh.

"Impossible. Everything has a threat level. Even furniture. Especially furniture." Kawtha hissed, glaring at Linari. "I once documented a chair that achieved a threat level of three-point-seven."

"Tell her you're a two," his inner voice suggested. 

"Actually, I'm probably a two," Piotr corrected. "I can... program computers?"

"COMPUTERS!" Kawtha's eyes widened to an alarming degree. "Digital warfare capability confirmed! Threat level rising! Do you have access to nuclear launch codes?"

"What? No!"

"But you COULD obtain them through your 'programming'?"

"No, that's not how programming works—"

"Insufficient data. Beginning standard interrogation." Kawtha clicked her beak. "Human, what is your favorite color?"

"Blue?"

"Why?"

"It's... calming?"

"Psychological manipulation through chromatic preference noted. What is your stance on birds?"

"They're... nice?"

"Define 'nice.'"

"Pretty to look at?"

"VISUAL SURVEILLANCE OF AVIANS CONFIRMED!" Kawtha squawked. "Linari, this local beast admits to watching birds! He could be gathering intelligence on Pradavarian aerial units!"

Linari put her head in her paws. "Kawtha, everyone looks at birds. Birds fly around being visible. That's what local birds do."

"I don't fly around being visible," Kawtha said defensively. "I manage SPREADSHEETS."

"Ask about her spreadsheets," the voice in Piotr's head suggested with what sounded like barely contained glee. "She seems obsessed with data."

"You keep spreadsheets?" Piotr asked.

Kawtha's entire demeanor changed with an invisible snap. She preened. "Why, yes! I maintain 47,293 active spreadsheets tracking all aspects of this planetary occupation and making sure that Division 881 does its job better than others. Would you like to see my pie charts?"

"Kawtha, NO," Linari groaned. "Nobody wants to see your pie charts."

"I have bar graphs too," Kawtha added hopefully. "And a revolutionary new visualization I call a 'squiggle plot.'"

“Ask her about the squiggle plot,” Piotr’s inner voice suggested.

"What's a squiggle plot?" Piotr asked.

"NO!" Linari shouted, but it was too late.

Kawtha's projection detonated, displaying dozens of floating holographic charts, each more complex than the last. One appeared to be tracking "Incidents of Humans Claiming to be Wizards [As sorted by Hat Pointiness]." Another showed "Correlation Between Coffee Consumption and Mentions of Someone Named 'Batman.'"

"This one," Kawtha said proudly, highlighting a chart that looked like someone had sneezed mathematical equations onto a graph, "tracks the frequency of humans saying 'like' as a verbal filler against proximity to educational institutions!"

“Ask about more charts, this is hilarious,” the mental voice said.

"That's... actually interesting," Piotr let out.

"Finally! Someone who appreciates proper data visualization!" Kawtha's head bobbed excitedly. "Linari never wants to review my charts."

"Because you drive me up the wall with your dumb charts," Linari huffed, drowning another beer.

"Offer to help with her data," his inner voice suggested. "Build rapport."

"I could help you understand Earth data patterns," Piotr offered. "I'm a programmer. I work with data all day."

Kawtha's head tilted so far it was nearly sideways. "You would... assist with data interpretation?"

"Sure."

"Even the spreadsheet about suspicious penguins?"

"You have a spreadsheet about suspicious penguins?" He chortled.

"Seventy-three percent of humans who mention penguins also reference someone called 'Emperor.' This cannot be a coincidence. The penguins are clearly organizing!"

“Don’t think about naked Linari petting penguins,” Piotr’s inner voice said.

Linari made a strangled noise. "Kawtha, penguins are just birds that can't fly!" She elbowed Piotr. “Stop that, we’re in public!”

“Stop what?” Piotr asked.

“You know what you're doing,” Linari said, tail wagging.

“What’s he doing?” Kawtha asked.

“Tell her to stop reading your mind in public without your permission. Also don’t imagine her naked and working out covered in sweat…” His inner voice laughed deviously. "Wait, do wolf girls sweat? Don't think about that one!"

Piotr furiously blushed under his costume. Damn you Wicked Witch, he thought. Damn you to hell.

"Linari, could you maybe... not read my mind? It's kind of invasive." He said.

"But it's so easy!" Linari protested. "Your thoughts are right there, floating around like delicious smell-bubbles!"

"Friends don't read each other's minds without permission," Piotr said. "It's… a boundary thing. Don’t you know enough about me already?"

“Ha, listen to this one,” Kawtha laughed. “He doesn’t want to be mentally investigated? Sounds like you should investigate his dastardly plans extra hard!”

"Don't think about your dastardly plans of dating Linari," the dastardly mental voice suggested.

Linari choked on her cake.

"Ask the bird if she's made a spreadsheet about making spreadsheets," Piotr's inner voice suggested.

"Do you have a spreadsheet tracking your spreadsheet creation?" Piotr asked, glad to be sliding away from his Linari-picturing thoughts. “To optimize your own performance?”

Kawtha went completely still. 

"I... I..." She made a sound like a dial-up modem having an existential crisis. “Urm. That’s… Hrm. Hrm. That’s an interesting idea… for a primitive.”

"No!" Linari laughed. "Kawtha, we're supposed to be finding magical artifacts, not—"

"This IS critical! How can I optimize spreadsheet efficiency without a meta-spreadsheet analyzing spreadsheet creation patterns?!" Kawtha pulled up a bunch of charts. 

"Tell her you'll help her lots with data analysis if she accepts you as a trusted informant and pays you in gold cubes," the inner voice coached. “Tell her you lost your job today.”

"I could help you with spreadsheet stuff," Piotr offered. "But only if you officially recognize me as an Earth culture informant for Division 881. Maybe throw a couple of those gold cubes my way. I kinda lost my job today… because I spent half the night hanging out with Linari."

Kawtha's head snapped back into focus. "Hrm, hrm. Prove your worth first.”

“How?”

“Find me one—just ONE—genuinely magical thing on this Astral Ocean forsaken planet, and I'll consider it!"

"Ask what they'd do if you found a vampire grave," his inner voice prompted.

"What would you do if I helped you find, say... an actual vampire grave?" Piotr asked.

Both Linari and Kawtha burst out laughing.

"Vampires!" Linari wheezed. "Really?"

"The probability of genuine vampires existing on this magically-null world is approximately zero-point-zero-zero-zero-zero-two percent," Kawtha rattled off. "My calculations account for margin of error only."

"Make a bet," the inner voice urged. "High stakes."

"Want to bet on it?" Piotr asked.

"A bet?!" Kawtha's eyes gleamed. "I LOVE bets! They generate excellent data points! What are the stakes?"

"Go big," his inner voice insisted. "Make it impossible for her to refuse. There’s a museum in Kraków they’re gonna love with tons of vampire graves.”

"If I can show you… evidence of historic vampire graves," Piotr said bravely, "then Linari gets time off duty to spend with me as my... cultural exchange partner. And you have to delete your three most boring spreadsheets."

"DELETE MY SPREADSHEETS?!" Kawtha shrieked like someone had suggested burning the Library of Alexandria again. "Never!"

"Five most boring spreadsheets," his inner voice suggested deviously.

"Five most boring spreadsheets," Piotr amended.

“This isn’t how negotiations work!” the Magpie stated.

“Demand no mind reading instead,” his inner voice suggested.

“Fine, no spreadsheet deletion,” Piotr offered, “But if I show you evidence of vampire graves,  Linari chills on reading my mind all the time.”

"And if you fail?" Kawtha's beak clicked menacingly. "When you inevitably… fail because this planet has no real vampires?"

“Bamboozle them with being helpful,” his inner voice suggested. “To spend time with both of them. Offer to work for free!”

"If I fail to find any real vampires, I'll help you and Linari catalog every single movie, book, and TV show about magic in Poland! With citations! For free!"

Kawtha's pupils dilated to an alarming size. "Every... single... one?"

"With cross-references and correlation matrices," his inner voice supplied.

"With cross-references and correlation matrices!" Piotr repeated with a wide grin, giddy at the deal which would allow him to win either way.

"DEAL!" Kawtha squawked so loudly that other café patrons turned to stare. "Witnessed and logged! Timestamp recorded! Terms archived in seventeen different formats!"

23: Hunting Vampires

"Stormy-o," Linari pursed her lips. "Do you understand what you've just signed up for? You just made a bet with one of the most obsessively compulsive data-trackers in our fleet. She once spent six months documenting every time a specific blade of grass moved on a planet we were occupying."

"It was displaying suspicious patterns!" Kawtha defended.

"It was WIND, Kawthy!"

"Suspicious wind! Also, we’re getting off track!” The Magpie bobbed. “I demand evidence of vampire graves ASAP! Give me hard data! DATA!!!”

"Take them to Kraków," his inner voice instructed. "Rynek Underground Museum."

"Here, I've got a map of where it is," Piotr said, pulling up Goodle Maps on his phone. "Rynek Underground Museum. It's about 300 kilometers south."

"Three hundred local km-units!" Kawtha squawked. "That's... that's..." Her head tilted as she performed calculations. "Approximately 186.411 miles, or 162.16 nautical miles, or 984,251.97 feet, or—"

"We get it," Linari groaned. "It's far."

"I must verify this isn't a trap!" Kawtha's projection fluttered. "Division 226, this is Datamancer Kawtha of 881. Requesting immediate verification of location designated 'Rynek Underground Museum' in settlement 'Kraków.' Potential vampire evidence claimed by local informant."

A new voice crackled through: "Division 226 confirms. Museum exists. Orbital scan states the location is currently occupied by seventeen humans."

"Acceptable!" Kawtha chirped. "Now, while you two physically pursue this ridiculous vampire quest, I shall mentally construct my META-SPREADSHEET!" Her projection exploded into hundreds of smaller charts that began orbiting each other like a data solar system. "The optimal spreadsheet to track spreadsheet optimization! Why didn't I think of this before?!"

Linari tapped her ring. The projection of the hyperactive magpie minimized to a small glowing dot above the ring.

"Is she... okay?" Piotr asked.

"Uh-huh. She'll be like that for hours," Linari said, finishing her third cheesecake. "Totally lost to the charts. Last time she got this excited, she created a 47-dimensional pivot table to track how often I scratched my left ear versus my right ear."

"Why?"

"Suspected coded communication with enemy forces." Linari rolled her eyes. "Turned out I just had Astral fleas from that swamp planet. Anyway, let's finish our food and go!"

They demolished the rest of breakfast, Linari inhaling pierogi like a wood chipper while Piotr nursed his coffee. Other café patrons had given up pretending not to stare.

Outside, Etty unfolded back into her vehicle frame with a mechanical sigh.

"Another unauthorized joyride," the gun grumbled. "I'm a precision weapon, not public transport."

"Shush. I'm following a lead. Also, you love flying," Linari countered, securing Piotr in front of her again. "This is a mission authorized by our Datamancer. Check with her!"

"I tolerate it. There's a difference."

"Uh-huh. You 'tolerate' everything," the wolf girl laughed.

They shot into the sky, Warsaw shrinking below. The wind whipped past as they accelerated, the landscape blurring into a patchwork of forests and fields.

"Hey Stormy," Linari said over the wind, "Why do I keep smelling the tag 'Piotr' mixed in with 'StormoLyx' in your head? Are you two different people?"

"I expected this one," his inner voice said. "Tell her about conventions and costumes."

"It's a… furry thing," Piotr explained, feeling very worried. "StormoLyx is my fursona… my character. Piotr is my mundane human name. At conventions, we use our character names."

"Conventions?" Linari's confusion was palpable even without seeing her face. "Like military conventions? Rules of war?"

"No, it's like... Gatherings where people dress up as characters from stories they like or write themselves. Comics, games, movies. Thousands of people in costumes."

"THOUSANDS?" Kawtha's voice suddenly burst from the minimized projection. "Potential army forming! Threat level assessment required! Are they armed?!"

"With foam swords and toy guns, maybe," Piotr chortled.

"TOY WEAPONS!" Kawtha shrieked. "Nonlethal training exercises confirmed! They're preparing for something!"

"They're preparing to have fun," Piotr clarified. "It's harmless fun, something to do when we're not working on boring stuff like spreadsheets."

"Fun is what you call it when you're winning," Linari commented.

"Spreadsheets aren't boring! Take that back!" Kawtha declared before her projection went quiet again, presumably returning to her meta-spreadsheet.

"Your world is so weird," Linari said. "You dress up as other creatures… for fun? Like wearing the skin of conquered enemies?"

"Tell her it's more like theater," his inner voice suggested.

"More like theater. Playing pretend. Becoming someone else for a while."

"Ohhh! Like infiltration training?" Linari perked up. "Smart! Practice being other species. Very tactical. Hrmmm. Clever."

They descended toward Kraków's main square, tourists scattering as the alien vehicle landed near the Cloth Hall. Linari helped Piotr dismount, then paused.

"Can I see?" She added.

"See what?"

"Your real face. Under the… synthetic enemy skin you're wearing."

"It's not enemy—" Piotr started, but Linari was already reaching for his lynx head. She pulled it off carefully with his aid, revealing his sweaty human face.

"Oh!" Her tail wagged. "You're adorable! Look at your little human face hidden under the bigger lynx face! No muzzle at all! How do you smell things?"

"Poorly," Piotr admitted, face red from the costume heat.

"And your tiny teeth! How do you rip apart prey?"

"We cook our food first."

She ruffled his sweaty hair and smelled her hand. "This is neat! Like wearing the flesh of a defeated lynx but more... friendly? So cute!"

"Please don't phrase it like that around other people."

"Why not? It's a compliment!" The Scrutimancer grinned.

"Just lead them to the museum." His inner voice advised.

The Rynek Underground Museum entrance was in a fancy gothic building. The ticket seller was dozing off and barely glanced up at the seven-foot wolf woman as Piotr paid for both of them.

Underground, the museum sprawled through medieval cellars and passages. Interactive displays showed Kraków's history through the centuries. In one section, a holographic-style projection discussed burial practices.

"—and here we see evidence of anti-vampire burial rituals," the projection explained. "Bodies buried face-down, with stones in their mouths, or stakes through their hearts. Medieval people genuinely believed—"

"Ha! Stakes through the heart!" Linari declared. "That's pretty specific! Why would they do that unless vampires were real?!"

"Yep. Look at these graves," Piotr pointed to a display case containing skeletal remains with iron stakes. "Dated 1746. They really believed vampires existed."

"Believed or KNEW?" Linari's nose twitched as she sniffed the display. "These bones smell… odd. Hrmmmm. Too old to scrutinize, but maybe... I can get something... This already is way more than anyone else on this damned planet found."

A man in a deerstalker hat and Victorian coat materialized from the shadows. He had sharp features and carried a magnifying glass, which warped his face.

"Excuse me," he said in accented British English, staring at Piyotr. "You look like a... serious vampire enthusiast, yes?"

"Say yes," his inner voice instructed. “This seems fun. Heh. Sudden Sherlock. What a fun date this is!”

"Sure," Piotr replied with a shrug.

Sherlock suddenly pulled out a worn piece of paper from his coat. "Then perhaps this will interest you. A map of genuine vampire nests I scrutinized recently. This one in particular..." He pointed to an X marked on the Pacific Northwest of the USA, "is quite active. 47°46'45.9"N 123°43'56.8"W. A farm with a huge bunker deep underground. Very old. Very... inhabited. The foot of Mount Olympus at the Pacific Rim. I believe you will find this of great value in your Quest, Mr. Grabowski."

He pressed the map into Piotr's hands, then turned to leave.

"Wait, how—" Piotr started, shocked by the fact that Sherlock somehow knew his name.

But Sherlock had already vanished into one of the side tunnels.

"Who were you talking to?" Linari asked, turning from the vampire grave she'd been intensely studying on all fours.

"Someone dressed as… Sherlock Holmes. He knew my name... somehow and he gave me this." Piotr showed her the map. “Not sure if it’s a joke or some kind of an advert or a puzzle game. Weird, right?”

"Those coordinates are really specific," Linari frowned. "That's not how jokes work. Jokes are supposed to be funny. This is just... Specific data. And he knew your name?"

"Data!" Kawtha's projection exploded to full size. "DATA DATA DATA! That human in the primitive detective costume—Division 943 encountered someone like him yesterday! He knew their names and gave them a tour of 'Baker Street' and sold them seventeen Sherlock Holmes novels!"

"So?" Linari asked, returning to sniffing at the vampire burial display.

"SO?!" Kawtha shrieked. "He's appearing at multiple locations, looking slightly different! Providing... a map is new data though! Map with COORDINATES! Specifically, very specific coordinates that I will investigate right now!"

“Aight, you do you, bird.” The wolf sighed.

“Ah! Data! Hmmmmmm… Oh wow, a dimensional deviation!”

“What?” Linari blinked, clearly not expecting this turn of events.

Kawtha manifested a three and a half dimensional chart that twisted and wobbled, folding into itself. "See this anomaly at the foot of Mount Olympus in Western USA? A fissure! I just had the location scanned from orbit! The Astral curtain there deviates 0.03% from the overall baseline! That's STATISTICALLY SIGNIFICANT!"

"Is it really?" Linari asked.

"YES! Combined with the burial evidence shown here—" Kawtha practically vibrated with excitement, shiny feathers bristling wildly. "We need greater reconnaissance immediately! No, an orbital bombardment! We need to blast that place from ORBIT right away!" The bird girl suddenly escalated her plans tenfold.

"This escalated quickly," Piotr's inner voice commented.

"Kawthy you’re getting way too excited over this. We—" Linari started.

"We need to move before they escape! The shrooms know how to move via dimensional gates!" Kawtha's projection split into twelve smaller versions, each talking to different command nodes simultaneously, then converged into one. "Commander Sillicia! Priority zero potential magic discovery! Requesting immediate orbital secondary verification of local coordinates tagged as 47°46'45.9"N 123°43'56.8"W!"

Through the projection, Piotr heard a familiar voice, and saw a miniature holo of the same Frontenachii Commander he'd seen on YouTube casually talking to the Emperor of Earth.

"Datamancer Kawtha, this better not be another 'suspicious penguin gathering.'"

"No, no, no, Commander Sillicia! I have EVIDENCE this time!” Kawtha yelled.

Commander Sillicia sighed. “Which is?”

“A map in possession of Alpha Linari provided to our informant by the greatest Scrutimancer of Earth, Sherlock Holmes! Just like the books another Division is reading in England! Astral irregularities from an orbital scan!"

"What informant?"

Kawtha flapped her hands dramatically, "A lovely human informant dressed like lynx who just successfully helped us investigate genuine anti-vampire burial sites!"

There was a long pause as the Wendigo considered things.

"Bring this… informant up to my ship," Sillicia ordered. "I wish to evaluate him… personally."

Linari's ears flattened. "Up? As in—"

"TO OUR LADY'S WARSHIP!" Kawtha’s hologram squawked. "IMMEDIATELY! Go! Go! Go!"

They rushed out of the museum, Etty leaping off Linari’s sidearm and inserting herself into the glider bike frame that Linari pulled off her back with a grunt.

"Hold on tight," Linari warned, pulling Piotr in front of herself. "And try not to scream. Or vomit. Or die. It would be very inconvenient if you break on me now, babe."

"Why would I—"

She snapped a black centipede-like bracelet on his wrist. Then, the acceleration hit like a sledgehammer.

They shot straight up, the medieval cobblestone square shrinking to a dot in seconds. The historic buildings became patterns, then patches, then disappeared under clouds that whipped past like torn cotton. Piotr's stomach dropped somewhere around his ankles as the sky shifted from blue to deep indigo, darkening rapidly.

The air thinned. His ears popped painfully. Then a shimmering shield ignited around the glider and he could suddenly breathe and feel his limbs once again.

The Earth curved below them. The terminator line between day and night crawled across Europe. City lights sparkled like a million scattered diamonds on the dark side.

And above them, a monstrous, increasingly larger shape blotted out the stars.

The warship looked like a space cathedral drawn by a Heavy Metal artist. Black metal twisted into sharp spires and jagged buttresses. It had to be several kilometers long, a flying mountain of implied violence and sharp ends.

"The Abyssal Sorrow," Linari announced with pride. "Isn't she beautiful? Das’ our commander’s personal warship."

"It looks like someone’s whack Gothic nightmare," Piotr managed.

"I know, right? So pretty!" Linari cooed. “They're shells put together and grown by space crabs on some secret world!”

A hangar bay opened in the ship's belly, revealing a maw lined with red lights. They flew inside, passing through some sort of energy barrier that tingled against Piotr's skin, making his teeth ache. Suddenly, gravity reasserted itself, and they landed on a deck that looked like it was made from black frosted glass.

The hangar was vast, filled with more gliders. Crystalline shapes he recognized as Corpse Seekers hung from the ceiling like slumbering centipede-bats. Wolf, bird, cat, and misc reptilian Pradavarians in armor moved across the bay, paying them no mind.

"Ahhhhh!" Kawtha suddenly materialized physically in front of them as an actual tall, feathery and lanky magpie girl in armor. “My lovely validated human informant! Welcome to the Sorrraww!"

She grabbed Piotr, lifting him off the ground and spinning him through the air. "You gorgeous primitive data-providing mammal! You precious creature! You found ACTUAL VAMPIRE EVIDENCE! Eeeeeeee!"

"Can't... breathe..." Piotr wheezed.

"Kawtha, you're crushing him," Linari pointed out with a growl.

"Crushing with SUCCESS!" Kawthra laughed. 

“What success?” Linari asked warily. “What, you actually found something? Truly?”

24: Hammer of God

"Yes, yes! The orbital arrays confirm it! There's a concealed structure at the coordinates provided by Sherlock Holmes! Deep underground! SHIELDED! Using technology that DOESN'T MATCH any of the local construction!"

Commander Sillicia approached, and Piotr's attention snapped to the alien. She was even more imposing in person than on video, seven feet of Wendigo authority wrapped in black armor, antlers menacingly looming overhead.

"So," Sillicia said, silver, glowing eyes boring into Piotr, "you're the human who claims to have… found vampires?"

"I... not exactly, the map... someone gave it to me," Piotr stammered, his inner voice completely absent now. Why wasn't it helping him?

Something invisible slammed across his mind like a sledgehammer, scraping bits and pieces of his life with jagged metal hooks, digging in deep and dragging out the image of Sherlock Holmes out along with a bunch of other random thoughts.

"This is StormoLyx!" Linari interjected quickly, stepping in front of Piotr as the man in a lynx costume heaved and wobbled on the spot. "Please don’t break him, my Lady! He's my cultural informant. He's helping us understand Earth's magical folklore. And, uh, actual magic, possibly… if what our Datamancer found?"

Sillicia tisked. "You smell of fear and sweat, costumed human. But not deception. Something about your inner voice not helping you anymore? Curious…"

"These coordinates... there's definitely something there. Satellite scans shows irregular signatures. The structure is old and not in local building records. And..." The Datamancer bobbed, "There are life signs. Multiple. Far too many! But they're... wrong."

"Wrong how?" Linari asked.

"Hundreds of entities. But their signatures are uniform. Too uniform. Too cold to be human. Like they're all the exact same temperature. Waaay below normal human baseline."

“How far below?” Sillicia asked, eyes growing wide. “Are you saying that…”

"VAMPIRES!" Kawtha shrieked, making the tall Wendigo wince. "Actual vampires! Crystalline-organic life! The good shit we’re looking for, to make more… you know what!" She added conspiratorially, glancing at the human. "This could be the first genuine magical discovery on this human-packed ball of mostly mundane dirt! There could be a hoard down there!”

Sillicia's expression shifted, becoming predatory. "If our team successfully locates and captures an actual colony of fungi crystalloids with a hoard, that would be quite the accomplishment. The Admiral would have to acknowledge my success where all of the others failed. Might even warrant a commendation, no… a medal. Assuredly a promotion for everyone involved in this operation."

She turned to Piotr. "If this is accurate, you've done us a great service! However, if this is some elaborate deception or a devious trap..." Her inhumanly monstrous, wide smile revealed too many sharp teeth, "I'll personally ensure you spend the next millennium as my wall decoration. My quarters could use more suffering."

"He's not lying!" Linari stepped forward. "I've been smelling his thoughts all day. He genuinely wants to help! He… likes me! A lot! Genuinely likes me, I swear it on my blood contract, my Lady! He likes me and Etty. He even likes our knobby Datamancer and nobody likes her because she's so... devoted to, uhm, charts and stuff!"

The Magpie nodded rapidly in agreement, feathers fluttering at the wolf's commentary about charts.

"We shall see." Sillicia tapped her command ring. "All active units, prepare for immediate Prima Corpse Seeker deployment. Target: local coordinates 47.779402, -123.732432. Pacific Rim. Mount Olympus. Potential magical entities confirmed. Lethal suppression authorized."

The Corpse Seeker they boarded was different from the ones Piotr had seen wrapped around buildings. This one was particularly chonky, a crystalline centipede the size of several subway trains. Its interior was disturbingly organic, something between crystals and jello, walls that pulsed slightly, surfaces that were too warm, eerie things that looked like bioluminescent organs within black mesh bones.

"Seeker 881-Prime, Dragonspear," Sillicia commanded, "prepare for ballistic insertion."

The creature responded with its organs flashing brighter, moving on crystalline legs towards some kind of an elongated structure.

“Eeee! Launch time!” Kawtha bobbed, hugging Piotr which earned her a growl from Linari. 

“Sorry, sorry,” the Magpie let go of the human.

"Launch?" Piotr asked.

"Oh yes!" Kawtha pulled up a holo-display showing the warship's ventral cannon, a gargantuan orbital weapon that looked like it could crack continents. "We're going to shoot ourselves at the target at Mach 27! The kinetic impact alone will plow right through any magic-reinforced bunker wards!"

"What about the people inside?" Piotr swallowed.

"If my scan is correct, there are no people inside. Only crystalloid shrooms which are immune to fire,” Kawtha bobbed. “The Seeker will burn through all shields and matter at the moment of impact. We'll materialize inside their defenses. Very efficient. Very traumatic for the defenders. Boom!” She slapped her hands together.

“And us?” He asked.

“You and I are going to stay inside the Corpse Seeker,” Kawtha explained. “And watch. Linari, the Commander and our Knights and Slayers will handle the rest… personally. He he he.”

The Corpse Seeker contracted, compressing itself. Piotr felt himself pressed into what felt like a womb of crystal and metal as the interior shifted. Linari's arm wrapped around him tightly, pulling him into her embrace.

"First time being shot from a railgun at a planet?" She grinned.

"I… umm, yes, definitely," he affirmed.

Through the Seeker's semi-transparent walls he watched the cannon align. 

"If this is a trap," Sillicia said, her voice digging into his head as energy whined around them, rapidly building up, "you'll wish I'd simply killed you."

"Understood," Piotr swallowed. 

Without his inner voice's confidence, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. If the man dressed as Sherlock provided the location as a marketing plot or a prank, whoever inhabited that bunker would assuredly stop existing soon. And Piotr himself… he had no idea what the aliens would do to him if there were no vampires to be found down there, at the foot of Mount Olympus.

"LAUNCHING IN THREE..." Kawtha announced, a holographic number flashing beside her head.

"TWO..."

Linari squeezed Piotr harder.

"ONE..."

The world exploded into acceleration and fire. 

Then Earth unfolded below, a storm drifting over the Pacific Ocean, Mount Olympus growing bigger with each second.

-=[Ashcroft Clifford]=-

The attic access was hidden behind a portrait of Great-Aunt Mildred, who looked even more disapproving than Gertrude. I pushed the art inhabiting the old door aside, revealing a narrow staircase coated in decades of dust.

"SECRET CIRCLE STAIRS!" Shady announced, immediately trying to cram herself through the opening. Her antlers scraped against the frame, leaving deep gouges in the wood. "BEEP! Too many antler squares!"

"Turn your head sideways," I suggested.

"SIDEWAYS CIRCLE!" She contorted at an angle that would have definitely snapped a human spine, successfully wedging herself through. The stairs groaned ominously under her weight. “GAH! SPIDER CIRCLE!!! BEEP! HELP! BEEP! EMERGENCY!"

She yelped as she encountered arrays of spiderwebs spread across the stairwell.

I considered that maybe I should have gone first.

I followed the spiderweb bothered Wendigo girl, emerging onto a small turret that Grandpa had apparently used for stargazing, based on the rusted telescope mount. The slate roof was covered with moss and grimy, creaking unnervingly under Shady.

"Why circle here?" Shady asked as I carefully climbed out onto the roof proper beneath the semi-collapsed overhang, testing each tile before putting my weight on it.

"To watch things," I said, settling against a mossy brick wall.

“Watching things is circle!” Shady bobbed.

The view from the mansion’s rooftop was spectacular. The entire Darkbrook valley spread on one side with Mount Olympus dominating the western horizon, its snow-capped peak catching the late afternoon sun.

Shady plopped down beside me, the roof creaking in protest. Several tiles slid loose, clattering down into the gutters. "What watch?"

I checked my tablet. 8:47 AM. 

"Fireworks maybe," I said, mentally reviewing what I saw through the cameras and microphone added to StormoLyx’s suit by the Wicked Witch before the transmission cut off as the wolf and human left orbit. “Maybe nothing. I don’t know what will happen exactly.”

The 'inner monologue' plot had worked surprisingly well, nobody suspected a thing for the entire morning when I guided two separate resistance cell agents towards the vampire exhibit in the underground museum.

"FIRE CIRCLES WORK!" Shady bounced excitedly, sending more tiles sliding. "Emperor makes fire? BEEP BEEP big-bada-boom?"

"Maybe."

She tilted her head, then started making microwave timer sounds. "BEEP... BEEP... BEEP... Countdown circle! Five... four... BEEP... purple... elephant... cat... BEEP!"

"That's not how counting works."

"COUNTING IS SUBJECTIVE CIRCLE!" She declared, then pointed at Mount Olympus. "Mountain is triangle! Not circle! Disappointing geometry!"

We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, Shady occasionally made random appliance noises while I watched the sky.

Then I saw it.

A line of fire sheared the clouds, a brilliant streak descending from the heavens like God's own highlighter. It moved insanely fast, the air screaming in protest as something tore through it at a mad speed.

"BRIGHT CIRCLE!" Shady pointed.

The streak hit the base of Mount Olympus.

For a fraction of a second, nothing. Then the mountainside erupted.

The explosion was more epic than expected.

A perfect sphere of destruction expanded from the impact point, vaporizing trees, rocks, and perhaps all of the vampire compound defenses. The fireball rose into a classic mushroom cloud, roiling orange and black against the gloomy sky. Even from here, dozens of kilometers away, it was massive.

"MUSHROOM CIRCLE!" Shady clapped. "VERY GOOD CIRCLE! Ten out of BEEP!"

The shockwave hit the forest first. I watched the trees bend outward in a perfect expanding ring, like grass before a giant's breath. Birds erupted from the canopy in numerous flocks, fleeing the approaching wall of compressed air.

The Wendigo wrapped herself around me like a fuzzy suit of armor just as the pressure wave reached us. The house shuddered, windows rattling in their frames. The old oak in the garden swayed dramatically. More roof tiles gave up their century-long grip, cascading down like ceramic rain.

The sound arrived a moment later, a deep, grinding roar that seemed to go on forever, echoing off the valley walls.

"LOUD CIRCLE!" Shady shouted directly into my ear. "EMPEROR'S FIREWORKS AGGRESSIVE BEES!"

When the shaking finally stopped, a massive column of smoke rose from what used to be the northwestern slope of Mount Olympus. Where forest had been, there was now a glowing crater visible even from here.

"Minus one vamp nest," I commented.

"VAMPIRE VEGETABLES HARVESTED!" Shady agreed cheerfully. "Circle of life! BEEP! Everything dies, except things that don't! This is… wisdom!"

I laughed.

Was she getting herself back? She almost made a sensible joke there.

I stared at the destruction, doing more mental math and watching the forest burn.

"Emperor sad circle?" Shady asked, nuzzling my neck.

"Just thinking."

"THINKING BAD!" She declared. "Leads to squares! Stay circle! Round Thoughts! Soft!"

“Soft,” I agreed, petting her.