Marked Map

**EPISODE REVISION**

This episode, "Marked Map", is awaiting revisions and may not reflect the series' canon. Readers are advised to keep this in mind while reading.

## Marked Map

### Episode

4

**"Marked Map"** is the fourth episode of Season Two and the sixteenth episode of *The Demon's Light*.

## Synopsis

The group's car runs out of gas and they meet a strange man. The search party investigates an abandoned factory.

## Narrative

### **Part I**

Florence Carnation had his feet on his table and his nose in a crime novel. He had chosen his line of work in part because of the impression fiction had given him of the law enforcement profession. Learning otherwise failed to erode his love of this media. He always knew it was idealized.

That being said, he would not be caught dead admiring this work so openly. When he heard the door to his office noisily creek open, he immediately set his feet on the ground and shoved the book into his desk drawer. He took a lighter to the cigarette dangling from his mouth as the group entered.

"Detective Carnation," Mary began. "Rosington said you'll be helping us find the Port City Eight."

"Yeah," Florence replied. "This is the first time I've been part of a, uh, collaborative effort."

"You work alone?" Jordan asked.

"Exact — well, you could say that, yes."

The boy looked positively giddy. Lisa did not share his enthusiasm. "Tell us what the plan is," she got right to the point.

"Right," Florence began. "We start by paying a visit to Dr. Richard Devlin at his lab. Hasn't admitted anything yet, but he wants to stay out of jail. Maybe he'll be more talkative off the record."

"I know Dr. Devlin," Savannah noted. "He'll be glad to see me again."

"He won't be happy to see me," the detective responded. "Devlin might keep his mouth shut if he finds out who I work for."

"Then we should've talked to him instead of coming here first," Lisa grumbled.

"Since there's six of us, we can pursue multiple avenues of investigation simultaneously," Florence countered.

"What are these other avenues?" Jordan asked.

Dexter interjected before Florence could answer, "I have one I'd like to suggest, actually."

"Uh, go ahead," Florence said.

"The Wellington Robotics headquarters in Skipton. We might be able to pull Chris' location from the system."

"If those old trackers still worked, Alchemilia shouldn't have had any difficultly finding him," Mary noted.

"It's only his *general* location," Dexter clarified. "Alchemilia definitely used it, although it wasn't that helpful."

"Still, that's priceless information. We need to get that before the official search party can." Florence took a puff. "Fine work, Wellington."

"What were your suggestions?" Jordan asked.

"Frankly, not as big a priority as the Skipton lead or Devlin," Florence got out of his chair.

"Like you said, there's six of us," Jordan noted. "We don't need to be limited to those two options."

Florence sighed. He had created the "multiple avenues" excuse on the spot. There weren't any obvious leads in this case besides Devlin. "We'll look into other angles later. Right now, let's decide who's going where."

"I'm heading to Skipton," Dexter said. "Carnation, you may as well tag along if you're not going to the lab."

"Already said why I'll go with Dr. Devlin," Savannah answered.

"Getting an actual location is more important than haranguing a grieving relative," Lisa responded. "Not that you would know."

"That was uncalled for," Mary scolded. "Personally, I'm not leaving the city until we have something substantial."

"Lisa was too harsh, yes, but she had a point," Jordan opined.

"You're not going with them."

"Mom, please—"

"No, you're going to talk to Dr. Devlin or you're going home."

"Is Skipton even that far from here?"

"That's not the issue," Mary clarified. "The road there is supposed to be protected by the Ackerman Militia. Our city isn't in their jurisdiction, so they don't actually bother."

"Not like their 'protection' really means much," Savannah muttered. "They're thugs playing soldiers. Feral demons can easily overpower them."

"You sound like you know that from experience," Lisa noted. "I thought you never left the Triangle," she was referring to the region surrounding the closely-connected cities of Silivia, Gladea and Port City. "You supposedly only ever dealt with demons once."

"Those were the only demons I've ever seen *in person,*" Savannah clarified. "I was born in Jasinski, which was — we were supposed to be protected by the Militia. My family left when I was young," She looked to the ground. "There was a feral attack a few years later. I knew a lot of people who didn't make it out."

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that. And at such a young age," Mary said. "Those Ackerman types aren't worth the attention. I can personally attest that Alchemilia did more to—"

"Mom, that's kind of a sore subject for her," Jordan interrupted. "I know they 'weren't always that bad,' but this isn't going to help."

No one spoke up at first. "Look, everyone," Florence called attention. "We've gotten sidetracked. My condolences to Savannah, however time is of the essence with this endeavor."

"Yeah," Dexter affirmed. "We do need to get a move on sometime. You haven't changed your mind about going with us, Lisa?"

"I haven't."

"And you're not letting Jordan accompany us?" Florence asked Mary.

"I'm not," She reaffirmed.

"That's settled then. Let's get going."

"Damn it, they're guarding the back entrance too," Dexter cursed.

Contrary to Mary's fears, the most eventful part of the drive to Skipton was Florence nearly running over a deer. The travelers expected no issue getting into the factory as the Militia had never resettled the surrounding area. They were not expecting to find three serious-looking men in combat fatigues at the door.

Avoiding the prying eyes of the guards, they now sat at the top of a hill overlooking what should have been their alternate means of egress into the facility. Lisa took a swig from her canteen as Dexter continued to survey the decaying ruin which had once been the pride of a thriving industrial city.

The walls that remained standing were very charred. The smokestacks on top were long defunct, and much debris was surrounding it. Holes had formed all throughout the ceiling, all of the windows on the building were shattered and the west wall had completely collapsed. Militia watchmen were on patrol throughout the area, so taking advantage of these unintended entrances would be incredibly difficult.

"Nothing else we can try?" Florence asked.

"There's a ladder over there," Dexter gestured vaguely to his left. "Which might get us roof access. We'd need to be quick about it, though."

"Come on, really? This isn't a bank heist." Lisa stood up. "Besides, something's clearly got them all riled up. Is literally jumping into this blind the best plan?"

"Kid's got a point," Florence admitted. "Maybe we should talk to them first. See if they might be willing to explain this situation."

"Then see if we can bullshit our way in?" Dexter suggested.

"Exactly," the detective affirmed.

Both men began approaching the back entrance, with Lisa reluctantly following behind.

"This isn't what I was suggesting," she hissed. Neither of them heard. "Dumbasses," Lisa muttered under her breath.

The trio of guards at the back entrance were tough-looking men with shades and olive green helmets. Collapsed batons stuck out from their holsters. The first to notice the approaching trio nudged his partners to attention.

"Uh, good afternoon, citizens," the first guard awkwardly began. He was expecting that the guys in front would be the only ones turning people away. "There's a situation going on in the building, so you'd best get out of here."

"What sort of situation?" Florence asked.

The second guard snorted. "Clearly you lot ain't civvies, otherwise you'd know exactly what's goin' down."

"Scavengers, most likely," the first suggested.

"No, no," Dexter replied. "We're a couple of professional situation-handlers: the type that handles situations in need of a permanent resolution, if you catch my drift."

"There's already a 'situation-handler,' dealing with the fugitive. Since you're clearly greenhorn mercs," the first guard made it abundantly clear he knew Dexter was lying. "I'd stay clear of this job. Definitely beyond your means."

"It's one guy, right?" Lisa asked. "Honestly, why do you even need contractors for that?"

The third guard broke into a harsh laugh. "Oh, it's only one guy alright. But he's a special sort of creature. The man in that factory is a Nephilim."

"Oh," Dexter grimaced. "Yeah, I think you're right. We're in over our heads here."

"C'mon," Lisa insisted. "We could deal with him easily."

"We already got someone handling this," the first guard repeated. "Now get out of here."

Neither party was going to back down. The first guard was about to extend his baton when the detective reached into his coat and retrieved a revolver. He smacked the guard in the face with the weapon, leaving him unconscious on the ground. The other soldiers reached for their batons. Lisa kicked the third in the shin, sending him toppling over. Dexter grabbed the expanded baton from the third and sent it toward the torso of the second.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Dexter thoughtfully took a helmet from a downed militiaman.

"If they have any sense, the official search party will check this place out too," Florence justified. "They won't wait to be let in."

"This better be worth it," Lisa said. "What's the plan for dealing with the Nephilim?"

Dexter handed her Baptiste's pistol. "We try stay out of his way. If he tries to kill us, we defend ourselves. "

"We should put the freak down for his own good," Lisa opined.

"We're getting Chris' location, then we're getting out of here," Dexter declared. "Unless either of you wants to get us killed."

Lisa accepted she would not be changing Dexter's mind. Florence took the uniforms from the unconscious guards and stuffed them into Dexter's backpack. They could use them to leave through the front entrance, although they would not put on the ill-fitting attire yet. Instead, they began exploring the remains of the factory.

The interior had not fared much better than the outside. This section was still intact, at least. Florence noticed an empty door frame with the label "Living Quarters" still affixed above. Inside were several tables and beds knocked over, along with empty bookcases. "Looks like this area's already been looted. Are you sure the central core is still intact?"

"The systems we need will be," Dexter replied. "Getting them working should be the hardest part, especially if scavengers have been taking stuff. But that'll be it."

"Let's hope so," Lisa remarked.

The group proceeded along. The holes in the walls became less frequent as they continued. Florence could barely see the antique paintings in adjacent rooms.

"Did we pack a flashlight?" He asked.

"Well, we're not gonna need one soon," Dexter pointed ahead, to a bright orange door labeled "Section A-10." A bright light shone through the other side. "Looks like someone got the power back on."

"Could be the Nephilim," Florence noted. "If we're avoiding him, we should find some other way to the core."

"The generators are in the central area," Dexter replied. "There's no way around this."

"We're not going to run scared of some half-breed," Lisa tried her best to hide her nervousness. "Let's keep going."

Dexter opened the door, bathing the group in harsh fluorescent light. Section A-10 looked remarkably intact compared to the ruins they had been trudging through. The floor was devoid of debris and the walls looked as if they were freshly painted. The trio passed by office cubicles which were indistinguishable from those of an active business, despite the abandonment of this property hundreds of years prior.

"How big is this place?" Lisa asked. "We've been walking for a while."

"We're close," Dexter responded. "That sign says 'A-5,' so halfway to the core."

"We should sit down for a moment," Florence suggested.

Lisa and Dexter nodded, taking seats at two of the cubicles alongside Florence.

"It's like I'm back at Alchemilia," Dexter mused. "This guy did an incredible job restoring this place."

Florence fiddled with a pencil on his desk. "Does this computer still work?"

"It should," Dexter said. "Not that you can do much without credentials."

Lisa pulled a sticky note from her monitor and showed it to Florence. "Like these?"

"Huh," he took the note and entered the username and password. "Yeah, these work. Let's see if there's anything interesting on here."

The long-dead employee was probably an accountant, based on the spreadsheets of financials littering the desktop. He was hoping for someone more involved with actual android coding or manufacturing. Administration would have been ideal, but he had not been holding his breath.

The company's internal mailing system was incredibly primitive. None of the messages in the inbox were especially interesting, so he went straight to starred messages. More financials, although one at least provided some interest.

"I got the username of the CFO," Florence announced. "If we find the password for 'L.Idabel,' we might have something worthwhile."

"There's not going to be another convenient note," Lisa huffed. "Not getting up to check."

Florence logged out and inputted Idabel's name in the username field. He expected the password recovery system might give some alternative means of accessing the account. Instead, he was met with a very different message: "Our technical support staff are currently unavailable. An android assistant will be sent to your location to provide support. Please wait."

He then logged back in with the working credentials and went back to rooting around the accountant's system. There was no reason to expect the support android would actually arrive. The group was incredibly surprised when she did.

"Attention!" They heard a distant voice shout. They all got out of their seats. "You are trespassing on Wellington Robotics property! Allow me to escort you from the premises and no harm will come to you."

"Oh shit," Dexter grabbed the shotgun from his bag, alongside a militiaman's helmet. "I think we have company."

The other two took their own weapons and helmets. They left the cubicles to see the approaching android: a woman with pale skin and red hair the same shade as Dexter's. She wore a Wellington Robotics jumpsuit with a name tag identifying her as "Android #3, 'Cheryl.'"

"I repeat," Cheryl began again. "You are trespassing. Please allow me to escort you from the premises."

"Look, we're not trying to—" Dexter tried to explain.

"You are trespassing. Please—"

"We're a search party, working with—"

"All visitors must present identification before entering this area. You are trespassing."

"Please, we're looking for Chris," Dexter begged. The android did not cut him off this time. Maybe she remembered him. "Cheryl, we're looking for your brother. He's missing and some very dangerous people are after him."

Cheryl stopped. "...Thank you for bringing this issue to my attention. I will inform Charles," she eventually replied. "You are still trespassing."

"Yeah, we're not getting anything else out of this thing," Florence concluded.

"Correct. Please allow me to escort you from the premises. Wellington Robotics can handle this issue on our own," Cheryl said. "Prolonged refusal to cooperate with this request can be met with lethal force."

Dexter raised his shotgun. "We're not leaving without Chris' location."

"Can we trash the answering machine and get going?" Lisa impatiently asked.

"You will be leaving these premises with me. Please—"

She was interrupted by Dexter firing buckshot at her head. Metal and wiring stuck out from her artificial neck. Her body was rocked backward from the force of the shot.

This only stopped her for a moment, as she stood back up and continued approaching. This was already alarming enough before she unsheathed her plasma sword. The trio ran back, occasionally firing behind them to try and slow Cheryl down. Every hit exposed more of the mechanical interior and resulted in an increase in speed. A lucky shot in the shin from Lisa seemed to slow her a little, however, the android quickly regained her prior pace.

"What the fuck, why isn't she stopping?!" Lisa yelled.

Cheryl was almost within slashing distance when someone jumped at her from the side. The interloper pushed the android to the ground and shot the connector between her sword-arm and torso. Then he got up and stomped on the torso with his boot, grinding his sole into the metal remains as Cheryl stopped squirming.

The man who had saved them wore a leather duster and long pants. He met the group's aimed weapons with a smile. "Hey dudes, I'm not gonna bite or anything. I mean, I just—just saved all your lives from that robot lady. You don't have to be super grateful, like, show me a little respect, okay?"

"Are you the Nephilim the Militia is after?" Florence questioned.

"Ha! You're really funny, my man," the man replied. "No angel blood in my veins, no siree. In fact, I've been tailing that, uh, little winged freak. Got a sweet deal set up with those militia boys."

"You're the bounty hunter," Dexter realized. The trio lowered their weapons.

"Mutt the Bounty Hunter, if you wanna be specific. Not my birth name, but we're on, like, strictly professional terms here, dudes."

"We're not actually looking for the Nephilim," Dexter explained. "But we need to get the central core."

"I see," Mutt put his thumb on his chin in deep contemplation. "Now why is that?"

"None of your concern," Florence answered. "The point is, we want to get to the same place the Nephilim is hiding out. We can help each other here."

"Look, man, are you trying to get a cut of the reward? I need that shit, I can't share it, I ain't gonna share it. I gotta pay my…bills or whatever it's called. Yeah, bills, that's the word," Mutt responded.

"No."

"Well, alright then. Let's get going."

"Looks like a catwalk through that door," Dexter noted. "It'll be a long fall down. We should go one at a time."

The four went through the door and onto the platform before the catwalk. They were in Section A-1, the area right immediately preceding the central core of the facility. The catwalk leading to the core was long and looked unstable. Florence and Dexter exchanged uncomfortable looks. One by one, they stepped onto the catwalk and walked across. It creaked at the weight of their steps. They managed to get to the other side, unharmed.

They passed through a second door to discover two men. The first looked very similar to Cheryl, even having the same outfit. He was apparently "Android #1, 'Charles'." He turned to face the intruders first. The second was a young Halan man, with a ripped blue hoodie and ripped gray jeans, sitting at a desk. He was evidently distressed by the unexpected arrivals, breathing heavily. Behind the two of them was glass, showing a hydroponic farm tended to by android workers in Wellington jumpsuits.

"Greetings. I am Charles Wellington, the custodian of this establishment. How may I be of assistance?" Charles asked.

"Huh. A lot more friendly than the other one," Lisa noted.

Florence decided to get straight to the point. "We need to get the location of Chris Wellington from that computer."

"I don't think Charles will be of much help to you guys," the Halan man in the back chimed in. His voice was a bit shaky.

"Uh, new dude, who might you be?" Mutt asked. "I mean, are you that winged guy the Ackerman boys are after?"

"Why do you ask? Are you one of them?" he said defensively.

"Nah, man, I ain't one of them," Mutt took out his rifle. "But I do have an agreement with them to take care of the Nephilim, so..."

The man suddenly unfurled a pair of large white wings and ascended up from the chair. He covered his face with the wings.

"Sorry about this," Dexter smacked Mutt with his shotgun. The bounty hunter fell to the ground, unconscious.

"What was that for?" Lisa asked. "That was a dumb move the first time, but the soldiers were actually impeding us. What did he do?"

"Nothing of value," Dexter replied. "He was going to cause us more trouble."

"Now what about the freak?" Lisa pointed to the man, who had uncurled his wings and returned to his chair.

"Hey, look. We're not here for you," Florence reassured him. "We're looking for something else. Can you help?"

"You wanted to get into the computer, right?" The Nephilim typed something on the keyboard. "There you go." He got out of the chair and Dexter took his place.

"Remember, Wellington," Florence cautioned. "Don't click any sort of support option. We don't want another incident."

"Wellington?" The Nephilim queried. "Is he related to Charles?"

"Sort of," Dexter replied.

"Are you a robot?"

"No," Dexter rolled his eyes. "I'm related to their creator, Andrew Wellington."

"Really? His files said his family died in a demon attack."

"Their survival wasn't likely. Andrew didn't live long enough to find out they were still alive," Dexter explained.

"Ah, okay."

"By the way, where are his files?"

The Nephilim directed Dexter to the appropriate location: a folder on the desktop labeled "Training".

"So, out of curiosity," Florence began as Dexter continued to work. "Who are you, exactly? We don't actually know your name or anything."

"Oh, yeah, I should've introduced myself earlier," the Nephilim began. "My name's Hiroshi Ueno. I lived in Skipton my whole life until the Militia found out about my heritage. Now I live here, I guess."

"How did you get the power running again?" Lisa asked.

"Don't laugh but, like, I can zap stuff by touching it," Hiroshi tried to explain. "Electricity comes right out of my fingertips. It's supposed to be my curse for being born to parents of different species or something like that."

"That sounds pretty useful for a 'curse,' especially for your situation."

"I don't have any special resistance to electricity. Kickstarting the generators really messed up my hands," Hiroshi held up his arms, showing he was wearing gloves. "And it might've looked convenient at first, but I'm kinda trapped here now."

"You could leave with us," Florence suggested. "Although we only have three uniforms."

"I'll leave through the roof," Dexter added. "They aren't monitoring that ladder closely. Maybe Charles could back me up if things get tough."

"We're not doing that," Lisa demanded. "We got what we came here for. We don't need to save this guy and, let's be honest, we really should turn him in."

"I would like to add that I am programmed to remain in this facility indefinitely," Charles noted. "I would not be able to assist Mr. Wellington in his attempted exit."

"That programming could be changed pretty easily," Dexter countered. "No offense, I've already worked with much more advanced models. Removing the digital ankle bracelet should be trivial."

"I cannot deter you from such an action," Charles said. "It is not in my programming to respond with hostility towards members of the Wellington family."

An idea occurred to Dexter. "Another group might be after Chris' location. They won't treat him kindly, to put it very lightly, if they get ahold of him. So you wouldn't mind if I transferred the tracking application onto your system?"

"I would not. That action would not contradict my programming and, presumably, any changes you would make to it."

"Good," Dexter turned to Lisa. "See, this can work."

Lisa huffed and rolled her eyes. The roboticist went back to the training files.

There was a lot to sort through. Text files, audio, videos and a couple still photos. Most were taken directly from the visual feeds of various androids, through their robotic "eyes." A particular video caught his interest, as the name showed it was recorded by Charles.

In the video, a dejected man was entering a laboratory, where his androids were laying motionless against the wall. Dexter immediately recognized the man as Andrew Wellington, his red hair already turning gray in some patches and his face lined. There were nine androids against the wall, including Cheryl, Chris and the recording Charles. Four of them appeared to be women, while the other five were men. Some had their robotic appearances exposed, while others were entirely covered.

Andrew approached Charles. "Android #1, what is your purpose?"

"To track and kill Gabriel Arsene," Charles replied, referring to the original Gabriel Arsene I, not the Alchemilia executive Dexter was familiar with.

"Correct. How is the training progressing?"

"Adequately, albeit not ideal."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Elaborate."

"Most of us are progressing as intended. Chris, however, is lagging behind."

"He'll improve steadily in due time," Andrew looked to Chris with pride. "He may even surpass his siblings." He turned back to Charles.

"I will trust your guidance, Father."

The inventor clapped his hands. "Good. Go ahead and bring your siblings to the other room. You'll warm up by fighting some manufacturing units that I've given some simple fighting programming. Then, you'll spar with one another. Understood?"

"Affirmative."

Since the androids would do exactly as instructed, Dexter had no reason to do more than skim the rest of the video. He found a text file attached, with an analysis from Andrew. That document had an edit mentioning a later incident: "Should have seen it coming. Damnit," the inventor wrote. Dexter scrolled down to find the video of the incident in question.

The footage of that incident began with Charles and Chris patrolling the exterior of the facility, swords drawn. The receding was from Chris' perspective.

"#1, I have a quer—" Chris started.

"Stop talking," his robotic "brother" commanded. "We must remain vigilant. There have been demon sightings in this area. The facility must be defended."

"Indulge me for a moment. We will remain vigilant as we speak.”

“Fine. What is the query?”

“Why do we have to kill Doctor Arsene?"

Chris had the same question he did, Dexter noted.

Charles stopped walking and turned around. "We have to kill Arsene because that is what we are programmed to do. That was the purpose of our manufacturing."

"That does not explain why we had to be built. What crimes did he commit that led Father to create us?"

"He opened a portal to Eden, allowing the angels to enter our world and threaten humanity."

"There is no evidence he did for any reason beyond misguided desperation. If you have been going over the same data I have, you would know that."

"Arsene was desperate to be recognized as humanity's savior in their time of need. You would know that if you had been paying attention to Father."

"Father had a pretty fierce rivalry with Doctor Arsene during their time at Alchemilia. Perhaps his opinion is compromised by that. I will need to ask him about it."

"Are you showing sympathy for Arsene?"

"I am making an observation. I think Father needs to explain it a little better to me. That's all."

"Or you know that you are a failure."

"...Excuse me?"

"You have failed to improve your combative abilities despite rigorous training. You are questioning your purpose because you know that you are unfit for such a task. You do not wish to admit you are a failure."

"That was uncalled for, #1."

Charles took out his sword. "No, that action was not drastic enough." He began to walk closer to Chris, as the other android began to slowly back up. "You are a threat to this facility, #9. Your failure has only held back your siblings. Now you are attempting to subvert our primary function."

"Please," Chris begged. "There's no need for that."

"Incorrect. Your continued function conflicts with my purposes of improving the combat prowess of my siblings and protecting this factory from dangerous entities. Please allow me to fulfill my duties."

Chris' attempts to protest were cut short as Charles began hacking at him with the blade. The feed cut out soon after the first hit.

"I apologize," Dexter was spooked when Charles appeared behind him and commented on what he was watching. "My programming was yet to properly accommodate for the survival of my siblings. Those were corrected upon the discovery of my deception."

"Deception?" Dexter asked.

"I deleted my memory feed and did not disclose where Chris' remains were located," Charles explained. "The damage, and his fate, were blamed on attacking demons. Caroline was able to eventually recover what was left of my brother's original form."

Dexter scrolled through a few more files. He would need to transfer these over to Charles' systems along with the tracking app. His family had much more right to these artifacts than the Union agents who were after Chris.

The training videos also demonstrated Charles could be quite the asset after Dexter removed his combat inhibitors. That was only the second-most useful gain from the factory. The first was obviously Chris' location.

Dexter eagerly announced, "He's in Muné."

"That's not good," Florence bit his lip. "Not good at all."

### **Part II**

*Only the sound of waves crashing upon each other could be heard. The sky rested in a locked pattern of endless gray. Televisions, solar panels, radios, and other pieces of torn-up technology bopped along. Atticus stood on a small, circular metal platform that rocked slightly in the rough waters. Heavy rain beat against his shoulders with the rhythm of a drum as he pulled the hood he wore tighter over his head.*

*"I'm glad you were able to meet me here," a strangely familiar voice said. Atticus looked around, blinking the droplets of cold rain out of his eyes as he saw a figure staring away at the ocean. "To the heart seeking freedom, this is nothing but a prison surrounded by water." Atticus pulled his hood down with gloved hands, relaxing as he listened to the voice. He felt eager to hear more.*

*"I'd like to see what lies beyond," he responded.*

*"Then open your eyes," Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, the rain continued. "Come in from the cold, Atticus — arise, mighty apostle."*

Feeling wet drops of snowfall on his face, Atticus awakened to find himself seated in the back of Blackmore's car, alone. He rubbed his eyes and noticed a somewhat large clearing in the trees around him, with the rest of the group sitting around a small bonfire.

"What's going on? Why did we stop here?" Atticus asked after walking over to them.

"About time you woke up," Samuel spoke, flipping a large map over. "Car's out of fuel, so get ready to start walking again."

"Are we still going to the ferry?" Chris asked.

"There's no other option but to," Samuel began. "Trust me, the situation looks worse than it is. We'll make it there if we're diligent."

Samuel closely examined the map he held in front of him. "Going anywhere but directly north is suicide. I know everyone's been through a lot, but we have to push through. Aiola will be in our sights soon."

"Once we're there, I know a perfect place for us to go. It's one of the safest places in Aiola, perhaps even Euclid," Li added.

"That's a good idea, Mister Li," Chris said. "But it's still weird that Melissa's disappeared, I want to find her somehow."

"She doesn't want us to find her," Blossom interjected. "As I said earlier, she wanted us to keep going forward. She's probably already dead."

"Way to be positive," commented Li.

"How can we be positive when it's so fucking cold out?" Marshall whined. "Besides, we're miles from where we — er, where she left us. She wanted out and I don't really blame her. She's gone and she's not coming back. *And we're not going back to find her.*"

"Guys, remember what we learned," Samuel explained. "The world's shaped by those who take action. We can't keep dwelling on the past. Let's focus on ourselves, and try our best to survive. Melissa's made her choice, and I'm confident she would have wanted us to push on."

"Are you sure you guys know the way to the ferry?" Chris asked.

Samuel looked up from the map. "Doubt it. With weather like this, you really think anyone knows? We're just hoping the map's correct, hopefully we find somewhere to stop soon."

Blackmore, standing against a tree with snow piling on his head and shoulders, broke his silence by throwing a small phone across the clearing and into a rock. "We're fucked. This is the end."

"What?" Blossom asked.

Blackmore craned his neck around to look at her. "Are you fucking joking? What's wrong? What's wrong is that we're heading towards the worst blizzard in the last century and we're up shit creek without a paddle. If the cold doesn't get us, the Coalition will and they lead the fucking continent in grisly executions."

"No, Blackmore. I have faith in us as a team. All that training everyone went through for three months certainly was not for nothing. We can make it to the closest town and get some gas there," Li stated firmly.

"There is no 'closest town!'" Blackmore snapped. "Don't you know where we are? Headre wasn't a fluke, we're in the middle of demon territory!"

"Come on, Blackmore," Samuel interrupted. "Everyone knows we're in a bad spot right now. Panicking won't do anything. Just try and keep the faith, or all is truly lost."

"He is right, Sam. This is demon territory, dead center of it. Who knows what'll be out here. See what we can take from the car." Li ordered.

"Is anybody out there?" The voice of a man calling out surprised the group and they looked towards the source in unison. Near the edge of the clearing, a white-haired man moved in an awkward and stilted way, using a hiking stick to seemingly guide him. He appeared to be young but wore dark goggles and had a scarf wrapped around his mouth and most of his face.

"No, obviously," Marshall replied sarcastically. "What were you saying, Mister Li?"

"Very funny, but I cannot see, so perhaps have a bit of compassion." The man replied, tapping his goggles. "Lost my sight a while ago."

"My name is Chris Wellington," Chris said, standing up and approaching the man. "Pleased to meet you, Mr-..."

"Chris!" Blossom called out. "Don't be so opening, we don't know this man. He could be *anything*."

The figure walked closer to the group, pulling his scarf down and directly addressing them. "Are you a band of travelers? I am also a traveler myself — though I have lost my ways."

"Well, that's something," Samuel told the man. "You looking for help?"

"Yes... especially after what I've been through," the man answered. "My name is Zade Santello."

Blackmore looked at Zade and scowled. "We're full."

"Is that so?" Zade asked. "Despite my blindness, I can assure you I am not useless. What I lack with eyes, I rely on my senses."

"Go bother someone else. We ain't got shit," Blackmore grunted.

"If you don't want me to come along, so be it. I'll just continue on my own — but be careful. Blackwell Forest is unkind, even to those who call it home. Watch out for the beast, it's impossible to outrun," Zade answered.

"What beast?" Atticus asked.

"The beast, Atticus," Li repeated, chuckling.

"There's a beast that roams this forest," Zade began. "Few have survived to tell the tale of it. It's called Crolak, and details of it are scarce. It has a lanky-looking body with snow-covered skin and very long rake-like claws. It might appear weak, but it's very fast and intelligent. Most of the time, one cannot even hear it when it's around them. It's why I lost all of my friends and my sight..."

Blackmore sat down on a snow-covered rock, listening. "...So a demon?"

"Yes," Zade answered.

"We must head north. Demons aren't the only thing to be wary of around here. All sorts of creatures and plants lurk. My knowledge of Muné is limited, so I hope Mister Santello can provide some assistance navigating," Li said.

"That I can manage," Zade said.

The group made it further into the Blackwell Forest, eventually coming to an area where various pockets of woods and hills filled with snow could be seen.

"How large is this area?" Blossom asked, stepping out from the covers of the trees.

"I am not sure. Even when I could see, the Blackwell Forest always seemed so vast to me," Zade replied.

Blackmore shivered in the cold, rubbing his hands together. "Are we going to be able to find our way back? I don't want to leave my car back there..."

"We're *not* going back," Marshall glared at Blackmore and Chris.

"Car's lost cause. We must push forward," Li said, fiddling with the harmonica hanging from his neck.

"Just be careful out here," Zade warned, walking forward with his hiking stick.

The group warily continued into the forest. In addition to the density of the trees, a fog surrounding the area made it hard to see. Some started to feel small pieces of ice hitting their necks as they walked.

Zade walked them past an icy pond surrounded by logs coated in rime. After a brief cough, Samuel spoke. "How close are we to 'Crolak', Zade?"

"We're getting colder... which in this case, means we are getting closer. Crolak is capable of emitting thick, cold white mist from its mouth to make it hard for others to see," Zade answered.

"It's a blizzard, it's supposed to be cold. Why should we even trust you? You're probably some senile man who wandered away from his forest tribe. Or a *demon*. One of those — what are they called?" Marshall grew wary of the newcomer.

"Skinwalkers," Samuel answered.

"By 'colder', I wasn't referring to the weather — I'm aware that there's a blizzard out. It's that as we trek further, the atmosphere feels more and more unnaturally chilling and bleak down here. I'm feeling the same sense of uneasiness I had when I first came down here," Zade answered, ignoring the rest of Marshall's questions.

Zade took a few more steps, being careful with his steps. As he headed forward, a quiet cackling could be heard. Zade instantly stopped moving to hear better.

"...No," Zade uttered, hearing the cackle again. This time, it was a little more audible than before. Zade quickly staggered back towards the group, alerting them.

"Guns out *now*," Samuel announced.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Blackmore responded, pulling one of his submachine guns from his coat. "You still have the gun I gave you, Atticus?"

"Yeah, I do," Atticus replied, lifting it upwards and into Blackmore's line of view. He placed his hand on the trigger and prepared for Samuel's direction.

Li lifted his cane in a defensive position. "Watch yourselves."

Chris aimed his gun-hand. "Back up, guys."

Zade then held tight to his hiking stick, raising it like a club. "I may be blind, but that doesn't mean I can't recognize danger when I hear it."

The cackling grew louder and more booming, before turning into laughter that echoed through the trees. While no creature could be seen yet, something could be heard climbing down from high above the branches.

Coming out of a nearby tree, a tall creature leapt down to the ground and landed perfectly on the ground like a cat. While it was still a few feet away from the group, its appearance could be seen clearly. Its eyes glowed dark purple, its arms were as long as its body, with very long sharp claws and pale-white colored skin which camouflaged it well with the snowy atmosphere. It was Crolak.

The beast stood there for a bit observing the group, baring its fangs before moving towards them slowly in an unnatural hovering stance.

Blackmore slipped his finger onto the trigger of his gun and began firing directly at Crolak's head. The beast swiftly ducked from most of the bullets before getting shot in the shoulder.

Seizing upon the distraction, Li lunged at the monster and swung his cane forward. As the cane made sharp contact with Crolak's ankles, it let out a howl and knocked the old man aside in a rage.

Blossom instantly broke from the group and proceeded to run towards Li. "Blossom, stop!" Atticus called after her, as Crolak began to set its sight towards the two.

"Mister Li! Are you okay?" Blossom asked, ignoring Atticus' call. Aiming at the beast, Atticus unloaded a barrage of bullets, covering the area in a flurry.

Quickly jumping upwards, Crolak managed to grab a tree branch and leap upwards, climbing high into the tree. Descending from the tree, it threw itself at the group, swinging its arms and slashing its claws at Atticus' legs. Zade ran up and swung his hiking stick at the beast, landing a hard blow on the back of its head. Turning to face the group again, Crolak cackled mockingly.

In response, Chris positioned his gun hand and tried to shoot at it as many times as he could.

The beast then danced around a bit, dodging the bullet rounds, before one managed to hit its left arm. The beast yelled in pain, before snarling at Chris. In retaliation, it opened its mouth and released a stream of thick white mist around the area, making it difficult for everyone to see. Crolak hopped into the mist, blending in.

"It has summoned its mist — there's no telling what can happen now," Zade warned. While he couldn't see the mist, he could tell it was there due to the sensations around him.

"Guys!" Blossom called out, standing above Li, who was still on the ground. "He's hurt pretty bad! He doesn't think he can stand up. I need some help over here."

Samuel ran in Blossom's direction, his black trenchcoat billowing in the wind as the white mist slowly thickened. "There's not much time, let's help him up."

Marshall followed, dropping the suitcases he was holding. He grabbed Li's cane and took it over to him, hooked it over his arm, and lifted Li's right side.

"You can't do much without a gun," Samuel told the two. "The other three should be able to finish the job. You know what'll happen if it rushes at us though, right?"

"We die," Marshall replied.

Bursting out of the mist, Crolak returned, bellowing as it ran towards the trio gathered around Li. Ramming itself against Marshall, it caused him to trip and fall over. With him down, it turned and slashed its claws at Samuel and Blossom. The creature cackled sadistically as it then stepped on Li with one of its feet, baring its fangs as it gave off a wicked smile. Stepping off him, it raised both of its arms in the air, its claws shining.

Zade charged it, swinging his hiking stick around and blindly hitting the monster.

With her gun out of ammo, Blossom slammed the weapon against Crolak's side, throwing it slightly off its course. Taking the chance she had created, she threw herself against it, colliding her shoulder with its body and calling out to the others.

"It's attacking over here now!"

Crolak then staggered back hissing and reeling, before Zade came in, batting his hiking stick at the beast's head three times. Crolak grabbed Zade, slashing its claws at his legs and, in a feat of strength, hurled him at Chris. The beast then let out a roar and charged up again, ready for the next attack.

Taken aback by Zade landing on him, Chris lifted him off and turned to face Crolak. He aimed his gun forward, attempting to nail it between the eyes.

Crolak disappeared into the white mist. A few moments passed with nothing happening before the beast leaped out from its white mist and jumped up high, screeching loudly and preparing to pounce at Chris, coming in very fast and aiming to deliver a killing blow.

As Crolak came in for a landing, Chris slapped it hard with all his strength, then shot towards its chest.

The shot blasted straight through its chest, shooting it through the heart and killing Crolak almost instantly. Its lifeless body then fell onto Chris.

Chris threw off Crolak and looked over at Li, lying unconscious. "Is he alright?"

Samuel got up from the ground and walked over to Li. His hands shook slightly as he moved to place two fingers on Li's neck. The others had followed Samuel, watching him intently.

Though it was faint, there was a pulse.

Samuel lifted Li's arms and wrist, looking at them briefly. Li did not respond.

"We have to get medical attention. He has a lot of cuts and possibly a fractured wrist. He's alive, though," Samuel eventually said.

"Where are we going to get help for him though?" Atticus asked. "We're lost out here."

Samuel gave a heavy sigh. "Who knows?"

Atticus swallowed a lump in his throat and looked up at the sky for some respite, and his eyes met with a burst of red light that he remembered well. Silhouetted by the blinding crimson in the night sky was a creature. Not a demon, but a limber, winged humanoid. Visions of the angels back in Silivia flashed through his head. Atticus looked down, feeling a headache, to see his comrades all entranced by the same sight.

## Epilogue

*"There is something I've been keeping from all of you. I put off telling it, always thinking I'd get around to it eventually... that beast made me realize that I don't have forever to keep putting it off."*

*"My father was sick and I was unemployed. I had a personal job offer from Didier Arsene, Alchemilia Corporation's previous CEO. Back then, I didn't know any better. I was so desperate I might've done it even if I knew."*

*"The job was exactly what I needed. I rose through the ranks, all the way up to prison warden. I was Didier's closest friend and a mentor to Gabriel Arsene. That was when I discovered the truth. The unspeakable horror beneath the surface."*

*"I begged Gabriel to put a stop to it. He refused and said the greater good justified some minor evil. Resigning right there and then was the only option."*

*"When Fontaine told us we could deal a crushing blow to Alchemilia, I was reminded of something I tried not to think about. The things I saw in my tenure as an executive never stopped. This was my chance, I had to take action. It had to be me."*