Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 19


Being a Director in the Consortium of Pain was a terribly exhausting job. Byron smiled gratefully that fools like Madrax Odful were willing to act as such convenient scapegoats in taking the roles when so little real authority came with the position.

Oh, it was certainly true that Director level positions wielded tremendous influence and were given enough wealth to bankrupt a small world or two but, in Byron’s view, settling for so little seemed like the mark of a small mind.

“Are you sure you won’t take an appointment as the fleet’s official [Tactical Analyst]?” Maldrax said as people behind him in the projection scurried back and forth as close to running as decorum would allow.

“I’m afraid I would make things far worse you my dear friend,” Byron said. There were several promising “unopened” worlds in the latest report from the field scouts. He found himself rather tempted to take a weekend vacation and go conquer one himself. All the fighting had given him a taste for a little mayhem, though only a little. Reasonable fellows avoided the sort of mayhem Maldrax had dipped himself into. Or at least they avoided it unless the payout was sufficiently likely and vast.

In Azma’s defense, Byron did have to admit that the payout on the current operation was likely to be vast. Lesser players would end their career and go into retirement following conquests not a tenth as valuable as the world Azma had been given to exploit. And that was without the [Transdimensional Entity]. With that as a prize, she’d be able to move on a level where she might even notice some of Byron’s minor pieces moving about.

Which, of course, was why he’d interfered. There were already quite enough players to worry about, and Azma didn’t show any sign of knowing when to check her ambition. 

“I don’t see how you could do worse than the ineptitudes they sent with me to handle things,” Maldrax said, unconcerned that the ‘ineptitudes’ he was referring to were swarming around the [Secondary Bridge] which was serving as the primary locus point for fleet-wide communications.

Byron hid a smile at the thought that all of Madrax’s personnel had been hand selected from the highest performing members of each of the individual disciplines. The problems they were experiencing were likely to be in part due to Azma’s lingering sabotage efforts, but could also be attributed to the hand which selected them being rather poor at the job.

Identifying actual talent took work, whereas identifying people who would agree with your proposals was a much simpler task for a Director to accomplish. 

“If I were to aid you and word of that got out, you know the credit for the operation would be tilted towards my division,” Byron said. “The last thing you want is for Gunridge to make a partial claim on your find.”

Director Gunridge wasn’t an enemy to Maldrax. Enemies were much simpler to deal with, and vastly easier to deny a claim on new treasure than friends and allies were.

“They’re saying we have troops marching to nowhere down there,” Maldrax said. “Why are they marching anywhere? We have transports precisely so no one needs to march.”

Byron could think of several dozen reasons why one would want to let the Consortium’s troops move from one point to another under their own power. Which of those reasons were a primary element in Azma’s planning was a mystery to him, and not one which he found himself overly invested in unraveling.

“Can’t you just recall them then?” Byron asked, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that recalling troops from the field when you didn’t know what aim they were trying to accomplish was both the right decision and the surest way to provoke a mission-wide failure. 

“We don’t know,” Maldrax said.

“Nonsense,” Byron said. “You’re the Supreme Commander of the fleet now. They’ll do whatever you say.”

It was the reassurance Maldrax needed to hear while also presenting as empty headed an argument as Byron could bring himself to make.

“We don’t have the ships to recall them all,” Maldrax said. “That saboteur sent too many ships to the moonlet trying to secure the [Transdimensional Entity] for herself.”

“What about landing a carrier or two?” Byron said. A part of him was chortling at the idea that he might convince Maldrax to make such a foolish misstep while the rest was applauding Azma’s ingenuity. 

By stranding the troops on the planet surface, even if only temporarily, she’d managed to ensure they couldn’t be used directly against her. Moreover if she managed to return to power, she could complete whatever scheme she had for them and claim an unexpected victory, thereby cementing the idea that only she could handle the reigns of the operation properly.

“The carriers are too slow,” Maldrax said. “We know the defenders can teleport onto them. And, even worse, they tell me if we start pulling our troops away piecemeal that the remaining ones will be left open for a counterattack. We could lose the territory we’ve already won!”

Maldrax had never managed an “Opening” campaign, had never even been within three degrees of separation from one, so Byron could have forgiven him his dismal understanding of tactics and strategy. Could have, but didn’t.

“Whatever will you do then? Allow the troops to continue on with Azma’s plan?” Byron asked, digging into Maldrax’s ego. Byron didn’t need to tip Maldrax over the line into a failure inducing rage, but that was an outcome which Azma had likely discounted which made it all the more amusing to contemplate.

“I intend to give them new orders,” Maldrax said. “If I could find one competent [Tactical Officer] around here who could decipher what the hell that woman was thinking.”

“Have you had any communication with that woman yet or has she been eaten by the entity already?” Byron asked, knowing the answer to both questions was obviously no.

“We can’t even look in her damn direction thanks to that…” Maldrax’s words tapered off to nothingness as he went from skimming a report a nervous aide had handed him to reading the document with increasing horror.

Byron racked his brain to imagine what turn of events could have provoked so extreme a reaction. Nothing on the operation could have gone that far off course, so it had to be something personal?

“It’s gone,” Maldrax whispered.

“What’s gone?” Byron asked, still perplexed.

“The entity. It’s gone.”

“It’s moved? I thought this one just digging itself in a little deeper? Did it go fully mobile? Is it coming for the fleet?” That last possibility seemed dire enough to provoke the reaction Byron was seeing.

“No. It’s gone. Completely gone,” Maldrax said, dropping the paper and staring blank eyed into the wreckage of his career in the far distance. “It was digging deeper and then something happened. A containment unit exploded. It changed.”

“A containment unit exploding shouldn’t have had any effect on the entity. What do you mean it changed?”

“It’s not a [Transdimensional Entity] anymore,” Maldrax said. “We’re doing active scans now to confirm it. It was overtaken by some kind of wave and what was left behind wasn’t transdimensional anymore.”

“Where did it go?” Byron asked.

“Into the moonlet,” Maldrax said. “Like it was hunting something.”

Melissa / Feral Fang

Evacuating a village out of the path of a Consortium army should have been a nightmare. The villagers were already scared, and venturing deeper into the [Shadow Creep Woods] wasn’t doing good things for any of their nerves. Feral Fang had a number of unpleasant memories from encounters with the local monsters back when she was a mid-level adventurer. The likelihood of a panicked stampede seemed fairly remote despite all the spooky elements surrounding them though. It was harder to be scared of the forest when a small army of very scary [Goblin] [Assassins] was actively frightening all of the other scary stuff away so everyone could pass in peace.

“So I’m having a truly terrible idea right now,” Jesterix said as she marched at Melissa’s right side and tossed a ball back and forth with one of the village kids.

“No, you can’t change class to [Assassin],” Melissa said, “Even if they do get some very stylish hats.”

“What? No. I mean, ok, yes, those are some amazing and annoyingly class specific bits of gear, but this is a much better terrible idea,” Jesterix said.

“Better than the hats? Okay, this I’ve got to hear,” Melissa said.

“Our new friends are flushing all of the monsters out of the woods right?”

“Not all of them, but yeah, they are clearing a path for us pretty well. I don’t think they want to try the same thing with the Consortium though. Soldiers don’t tend to scatter when you hiss at them.”

“That’s true, but consider this; the monsters all respawn right?”

“At least the ones we’ve seen tend to.”

“And the Consortium troops are even as we speak marching along the forest’s border right?”

Melissa saw where Jesterix was going and had to agree, it was a really terrible idea.

But she was kind of onboard for trying it out.

“Could we direct the monsters that well?” Melissa asked. “I mean it’s easy to get them to run away from a bunch of max level [Goblins] but could we get them to run towards something specific?”

“I think it depends on how tough the soldiers are,” Jesterix said. “If they’re all max level like us, then the monsters will just run from them too. If the monsters are stronger than them though? I’m thinking feeding frenzy.”

“And no matter which is true, it’ll throw the army into chaos for a while,” Melissa said. “Except that could be bad right? What if they decided that they need to hunt the forest clean of monsters before they continue on. We want them to ignore the fact that we’re here right?”

“I said it was a terrible idea, didn’t I?” Jesterix said.

“What if you brought the dragons down from the mountains instead?” the young girl who was playing with Jesterix said.

“Oh, there’s no dragons in the mountain anymore,” Melissa said. “All the dragons from here flew south and setup stronghold in the [Caldera of Radiance] about six years ago.”

“Yeah, the only thing left up there are…” a dangerous gleam appeared in Jesterix’s eyes.

“Are the [Emberwings],” Melissa said, the same plan coming together in her head that was dancing behind jesterix’s eyes.

“Those are really dangerous aren’t they?” the young girl asked.

“They can be, but only if they’re provoked,” Melissa said.

“Yeah, then they tend to fly into things, explode, reform and explode over and over. It gets kind of annoying,” Jesterix said.

“And we happen to know exactly who needs to be annoyed just like that,” Melissa said.

An hour later Melissa was regretting her optimism. 

“We’re going to need to dive right into their camp to get the [Emberwings] to give up on attacking us and go after them,” she said, wheeling her broomstick mount around in a tight corkscrew to gain some distance on the dozen lava bodied bat monsters which were pursuing her.

“At least we’re bringing a lot of targets for them to shoot at,” Jesterix said, matching speed with Melissa.

“Yeah, but they’ve got a lot of people to shoot at us with,” Melissa said. She took a turn around one of the mountain’s spiky pillars without reducing her speed and heard at least a handful of [Emberwings] slam into the cliff face behind her.

“Think evasive thoughts then, since they’re just around that next corner, and they’ve got to have heard us coming,” Jesterix said. 

Melissa had to agree. Their descent from the mountaintop after stirring up the [Emberwings] had put every Fourth of July celebration she’d ever been to to shame. She fully expected to come around the mountainside into a faceful of artillery but instead what awaited her was a pure and precious gift.

The Consortium forces were in disarray.

Not because of any attack but because they’d come to a triple fork in the road around the [Shadow Creep Woods] and the army was arguing over which direction is was supposed to go.

The Consortium, it turned out, was very good at following orders, and when the orders they received conflicted with each other, they were very good at being conflicted too.

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 18

Grace / Kamie Anne Do

In Kamie Anne Do’s world any enemy you could defeat without losing all your hit points was a good enemy. Grace’s view was that the best enemy was the one you could defeat without taking any injuries. They both agreed that the [Disjoined Soldiers] didn’t fall into the category of ‘an enemy they really wanted to fight’ though, despite the increasing number of them which they are able to dispatch.

“Where are all these reinforcements coming from?” Battler X asked, fighting back to back with Kamie.

“The last wave were all with the 5th Gryphon squad. These ones are mix of the 5th and the 3rd,” Sergeant Pono said as she tossed her exhausted [Plasma Lancer] away and drew a knife  that was long enough to qualify as at least a short sword. Grace suspected the nimbus of vibrating blue energy around its edge was more than a shiny cosmetic effect, but knives had never been her thing.

“Are we going to see more of the 3rd roll in?” she asked, parrying a raking claw strike and counter attacking to break the [Disjoined’s] elbow in the hopes of taking the arm out of commission.

Her punch landed with more force than Grace’s human form ever could have delivered, enough to shatter the bones she hit. In any sort of reasonable fight she would have achieved her objective. What she was embroiled in was nothing like a reasonable fight though.

“We shouldn’t be seeing as many of them as we are,” Pono said. “We were supposed to be operating under [Apocalypse Security Protocols]. The Hunger couldn’t have gotten through those.”

Pono feinted at the soldier in front of her, forcing it back a half step, before spinning to her right and slicing a leg off one of the soldier’s Kamie was fighting.

“Is that what kept you safe?” Grace asked. She took advantage of the opening Pono created to boot the injured [Disjoined Soldier] back into the crowd, knocking down two others who were trying to capitalize on Pono’s momentary distraction.

“Don’t know that I’d call this safe,” Pono said.

“Fair point,” Grace said.

“You said we’re immune to them though?” Battler X asked. She had downed one but didn’t make the mistake of assuming it was going to stay down. Before the soldier could rise again or scramble away, she dropped a quick series of blows to make sure the body was definitely non-functional.

“I don’t know how,” Pono said. “It’s good that you are though. If the Hunger could get it’s claws into you, it could probably use all of the your powers, and then we’d be having more than a mildly bad day.”

“This is mildly bad?” Grail Force asked. She’d taken up a more secure location and was lobbing death down from above into the horde that was trying to push into the boss chamber the adventurer’s had selected as their battle arena.

“I haven’t lost any major organs yet, so, yeah, could be worse,” Pono said.

The other [Consortium Soldiers] who were still in possession of their own wits had been reduced to fighting with melee weapons as well but were acquitting themselves far better than their [Disjoined] comrades who’d been [Devolving] into forms with blades and spikes and bladders of acid under the [Formless Hungers] influence.

“You sound like an adventurer when you talk like that,” Battler X said. “You don’t have respawn points on your ships do you?”

“Our medtech is top notch but dead is dead,” Pono said. “Well, for people at my pay grade anyways.”

“You should definitely take up the adventuring life then,” Grace said. “Don’t even need dental when you could regrow your entire head.”

“That sounds handy, but I’m bound to my post. We all are” Pono said. “Duty before anything else and all that.”

“Seems like your former comrades disagree,” Battler X said, kicking a [Disjoined Soldier] over to Kamie.

“They’re only former because they had their comms open,” Pono said. “Against a [Transdimensional Entity] like a Hunger no amount of [Loyalty Compulsions] can hold someone to their duty.”

“Wait, [Loyalty Compulsions]?” Grace asked. “You mean when there’s magic forcing you to serve the [Consortium of Pain]?”

“It’s cheaper than yearly bonuses,” Pono said. She lost her knife by burying it in the head of the one of the enemies but in exchange she gained a freshly charged [Plasma Lancer] and was able to able to open fire immediately.

“Do we have anyone who can [Dispel] control debuffs?” Grace asked on the adventurer’s private channel.

“Yeah, I think so,” Grail Force said on the private channel. “Back at the refuge there’s at least a couple.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Grace asked, sure that everyone could see the same opportunity she could.

“Yeah, definitely,” Buzz Fightyear said. “Only problem is I don’t see how we’re going to get them back to the refuge. If we leave this spot, the [Disjoined] will be able to get to a place where they’re not stuck under a level cap.”

“And there’s a whole bunch more of them coming,” Battler X said. She’d pressed through the crowd enough to be able to look down the corridor which led into the boss chamber. 

Grace wasn’t thrilled by the intel but she wasn’t surprised by it either. The [Formless Hunger] didn’t seem to be the sort of monster that was able to learn from its defeats. 

Or it has inexhaustible strength and simply didn’t care about the temporary victories Grace and her team were winning.

Either or both were possible, but Grace liked the first interpretation better.

“Maybe we don’t have to get them to the refuge,” Grace said. “All we really need is one of the dispellers to come to us as reinforcements, after all it looks like we’re going to be here for a while.”

No sooner had she said that than a wave seemed to pass through the [Disjoined].

“Whatever that was, I’m sure it wasn’t good,” Pono said.

Grace was inclined to agree with her.

The weird, hissing static in the [Disjoined] eyes and mouth was swept away by the wave. In its place a purple flame began to burn in their eyes.

“Brace for something bad,” Grace said.

And then the strangest thing happened; the former [Disjoined] began to flow out of the room, like a receding tide.

Something was calling them away.


The nice thing about an implacable foe was that they were so terribly predictable. Azma didn’t take that as an excuse to rest though. She was running a race against so many different forces that being able to ignore the [Formless Hunger] for a while only meant that she had time to plan out the moves she’d be taking in the hours and days to come.

She’d built up a variety of beautiful models in her mind, solid plans and wild alternates and subtle variations based on the range of responses from the Consortium and the defenders on the planet below. For the actions of those she commanded or could influence into action, she always assumed a statistically significant level of underperformance. Incompetence was a universal trait in her experience and while large, intricate plans were a path to victory in many cases, it was in all cases foolish to assume that the cogs which enacted those plans could be trusts with even the smallest degree of complexity. 

The only person Azma trusted to be able to see the scope of her machinations and keep the various threads straight was herself.

Which meant she was also the only one who could appreciate exactly how disappointing and terrifying it was what a fundamental aspect of those plans when horribly awry.

“Containment Unit 7 is showing a full burst detonation,” Grenslaw said. “Indirect telemetry suggests the personnel from Unit 7 were out of the blast radius when the burst occurred.”

“Good, good,” Azma said, paying only marginal attention to a result which she already knew was the only real outcome possible. “Has the Hunger overwhelmed Unit 7 yet?” 

The timing on the Hunger devouring the containment unit was slightly wobbly. It was possible the containment unit had expended it’s remaining charge in the burst and would fail instantly when the Hunger moved against it. Alternatively it might be able to put up a defense for a few dozen seconds. The more time the better since it would give the troops more time to leave the Hunger’s area of influence but ultimately all that was required was for the Hunger to shift itself out of position. That would leave it too far extended to reach the troops directly and they were all shielded for indirect contacts. Azma was ready for either eventuality but neither one required a change in her plans.

The report she received however did.

“Unit 7 is not being attacked,” Grenslaw said.

“That’s not possible,” Azma said, vague annoyance at the poor data collection available to them rising behind her eyes. “Whatever the Hunger seems to be doing near it is an attack.”

 “There is no sign of movement from the [Transdimensional Entity],” Grenslaw said.

“There’s…what?” Azma’s plans didn’t collapse then. She was used to incompetence and if she’d momentarily forgotten its prevalence in light of Grenslaw’s exemplary service, she still had it factored into several of her plans.

Also, denial is a powerful drug and a drug even the powerful can fail to avoid indulging in on the wrong occasions.

“Indirect telemetry shows no sign of movement,” Grenslaw said. “Shall I order one of the abandoned ships to perform an active scan?”

Azma paused, feeling her plans teetering.

If they used a downed ship to actively search for the Hunger, they would only get one set of responses back before they had to assume that the ship was contaminated after that.

“Yes. Do it,” Azma said. The cost was phenomenal compared to the data provided but if Azma couldn’t direct the Hunger, the value of a ship wasn’t going to play a meaningful role in her future.

It took a five second eternity before the answer appeared on Grenslaw’s monitor.

“No movement detected by an active scan either.”

Azma’s plans crashed down around her, brittle shards sending icy panic racing through her veins.

The combat squad she’d brought with her tensed.

The moment when the [Supreme Commander] learned that their careful plans had all failed was almost always the moment when Consortium leaders decided to vent their rage and disappointment in a bloody fashion.

Azma was the exception. 

She simply closed her eyes and began to think.

Had the initial analysis been wrong? Was it possible they hadn’t ever been dealing with a [Transdimensional Entity]?

No. Based on the Hunger’s destruction of the ships which its suborned, the first appraisal had been correct.

Was it possible the Hunger was faking? Playing passive to lure in more troops which is could take control of?

Again, no. That level of planning required capabilities which entities like the Hunger didn’t posses. Or rather couldn’t possess. A Hunger didn’t have a will. It was defined only be its hunger. For one not to respond to a chance to feed, it would have to no longer be a [Formless Hunger] at all.

Azma paused there, considering the implications of that thought.

Not a Hunger. 

No. Not a [Formless Hunger] any longer.

It had changed.

“Find another ship,” she said. “Do another active scan. I want a composition report this time.”

“The expected result for a composition scan of a [Transdimensional Entity] is a ‘Failed to Read’ error,” Grenslaw said. “I have one prepped now. Awaiting orders to trigger it.”

Azma smiled. Grenslaw was providing the proper feedback to ensure Azma wasn’t wasting a resource while also understanding that there was more to the request that was immediately apparent.

“Perform the scan,” Azma said. “I’m afraid it’s not going to be read failure.”

It was Grenslaw’s turn to take a moment of silence.

“The composition scan succeeded. Also indirect telemetry has provided new data,” Greslaw said, visibly stunned. “The [Entity] has begun to move.”

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 17


Pillowcase was in agony. The static fire which wreathed Tessa’s hand was unbearable and no amount of healing magic that Lisa poured into her was enough to repair the damage it was doing.

[Transdimensional Integrity],” Tessa said invoking a skill only Pillowcase should have had access to.

The static fire on her hand shattered into a hail of immaterial glass shards.

“Stop hurting us!” she screamed and slammed her fist into the face of a zombie who surged up from the pile trying to drag her down. 

Her fist left a trail of light through the air as she swung it and on contact released a blinding explosion that hurled her back into the door where Lost Alice was standing.

The Hunger’s zombies were knocked farther down the hall but wasted no time returning to their feet.

In the melee, they’d lost their blasters. Tessa felt a flash of panic when she saw how close the weapons were to the zombies but the Hunger did seem to retain any awareness of them once the blasters were out of the zombies hands.

It did seem to recognize that something had changed though.

Tessa hadn’t seen the zombies look fearful before.

“They’re going to attack again,” Pillowcase said, and from the furtive, side-to-side steps the zombies were taking, Tessa knew she was right. “Sorry about losing focus there. I didn’t know pain like that existed.”

“I didn’t either,” Tessa said. “And you’re doing fantastic. Are you ready for their next charge?”

“No, but we’ll have to be,” Pillowcase said. “The woman we love is counting on us.”

It was not at all the right time for that particular admission to herself, and Tessa’s instinctive response was to slam a thick wall of denial around it. 

Except she didn’t want to. 

Pushing the idea to the back of her mind to deal with later didn’t work either. She was facing off against certain death and even with the tricks she’d been able to pull off, she hadn’t taken out a single one of the zombies. The least she could do was be honest with herself for a second about what she was fighting for.

The zombies screeched in static shredded rage as the Hunger whipped itself up to confront the new threat that Tessa posed.

It should have been terrifying. Real, agonizing peril fractions of a second away from becoming real.

Tessa turned to look at Lost Alice though and she didn’t feel afraid.

The woman she loved.

She was in love again.

She was able to love again.

With death bearing down on her, Tessa felt more alive than she had in years.

The five zombies charged as one, and reinforced by Lost Alice’s healing magic, Tessa stepped forward to meet their charge fist first.

The glow around her hand flashed through every color of the spectrum as it erupted from every point of her body.

>> [Transdimension Integrity] morphed to [Transdimensional Essence]

That’s when Pillowcase case took control again and Tessa’s body shifted into a near perfect fighting stance. 

The fastest zombie took a left jab to the throat. 

The one to his right lost the use of its left arm as Pillowcase spun around it, demolishing it with a corkscrew force as she put the zombie between herself and it’s compatriots.

The injury would have been enough to completely incapacitate any human foe but Pillowcase had learned her lesson. The Hunger didn’t care about the state of the zombies body and was more than capable of repairing incapacitating damage that didn’t involve removing large portions of the body.

Lacking a [Disintegrator Rifle], Pillowcase made due with Tessa’s glowing fists.

Shifting her weight back, Pillowcase used the zombies greater weight against it, hauling the creature off balance and spinning it into the wall beside them.

With all of the rising force she could find in Tessa’s body, Pillowcase surged upwards, her left fist carrying the whole of Tessa’s weight behind it in an unchecked uppercut.

Pillowcase knew it was impossible to hope that she could literally punch the zombie’s head off, and she was correct about that. The ghostly echo of the zombie’s form which was knocked free from its body though came as something of a surprise. 

The other four zombies who had been tearing at her leapt back at the same moment the zombie Pillowcase hit slumped in her grip and began crumbling to grey ash.

The static ghost screamed an inch away from Tessa’s face and wrapped clawed fingers around her throat.

“No,” she said.

And she didn’t burn.

Tessa had been afraid of them. Afraid of the violence they offered. Every time she’d encountered real violence in her life she’d been left sickened by it. What the [Formless Hunger] was doing was too much too though.

Tessa didn’t deserve this, and for once in her life she saw not only that, but that she was strong enough that she didn’t have to take it.

Pillowcase had her training to fall back on in the face of an assault, but Tessa found something all her own to face the Hunger’s minions with. 

“I’ve had enough of you!” Tessa said and wrapped her own hands around the static ghost’s throat, righteous rage surging through her.

The ghost went berserk. It thrashed like it had been the one lit on fire, and wailed loud enough that the stone walls began to visibly shake. 

Tessa didn’t let up. The Hunger wasn’t even real and it thought it deserved to hurt her? Just because she existed?

Beneath Tessa’s hands the static ghost’s flickering form of light began to darken, an angry purple-green spreading from where Tessa was teaching it the meaning of pain. 

The other zombies recovered at that and dragged Tessa off the static ghost, but the purple-green stain continued spreading through its body.

Four on one odds were still terrible odds even with the new found strength Pillowcase felt flowing through her but for a moment she cheered the idea that she’d at least managed to reduce the odds to only four on one.

Then the purple-green finished covering the static ghost’s head and it’s thrashing stopped.

But it didn’t fall to the ground.

Worse, a moment later when the stain spread through the rest of its body, the creature raised its head and gazed on Tessa with eyes of purple flame.

And then it smiled.

The Hunger wasn’t formless anymore.

It still wasn’t alive but it had become something more real than the thing it had been.

And from the teeth which filled its smile, it was still ravenous.


As rescues went, Rose wasn’t sure three low level adventurers and a bunch of [Lighting Snakes] and [Gloom Drinkers] were going to be enough to save anyone. 

Not even themselves.

That did precisely nothing to dissuade her though.

“We’ve got to get there faster,” she said to Jamal on their private channel as the sound of a battle in the distance reached them.

“Go!” he said. “If they’re fighting, there’s still someone to save.”

“You’ll have my back?” Rose asked.

“Always!” he said, and Matt added, “You’re our best friend.”

“Follow me and come in hot on that fight,” Rose said on the team channel for all to hear before invoking one her new skills, “[Lightning Dash]”

The corridor she was racing down blurred in her vision as she executed a movement somewhere between a burst of super speed and outright teleportation. 

Turning a corner wasn’t an option without using the walls as springboards and the dizzying speed made it impossible to even think about firing her bow.

None of that mattered though.

She had to reach her…teammates in time (teammates, definitely not “New Moms”, teammates). Willing herself to be faster than lightning wasn’t possible. Willing her body to turn into lightning wasn’t strictly speaking an option either, but Rose’s nerves were crackling with so much electricity as she ran that it seemed like the [Lord of Storms] was, maybe, giving her a little more juice in her skills than she should have been allowed under the strict letter of the world’s physical laws. 

When she arrived at the melee, she was greeted by an even more disturbing sight than she’d been expecting.

Tessa was being pulled down to the ground by four Consortium soldiers. 

And she was was glowing like a rainbow on fire.

That wasn’t disturbing though.

What brought Rose to a grinding halt was the fifth figure. 

It was like a shadow pulled from an oil slick. It’s eyes were purple flames and the ripples of color gave it features, which the Hunger had twisted into a cruel, laughing rictus. 

Then there were the teeth. The far too numerous teeth.

It was a [Hungry Shadow].

Obvious. Purely descriptive.

And present on Rip’s heads-up-display just like the name of any other monsters.

She didn’t need to debate if she should join the battle.

She didn’t need to question which enemy was her target.

And she didn’t need to hold back.

“[Thunder Shot],” Rip said.

The arrow which leapt from her bow converted from a simple wooden shaft to a stroke of electricity. It ripped into the [Hungry Shadow] and set it convulsing as the energy began to burn the Shadow from the inside.

That got the attention of the Hunger-Zombies that were tearing at Tessa.

Rip lined up her next shot and saw one of the zombies staring at her with eyes of purple flame.

They all had eyes like that.

“What is happening?” she asked on the team chat and was rewarded by finally hearing Lost Alice’s voice.

“Rip! You’re here? What are you doing here?” Lost Alice said.

“Rescuing you!” Jamal said.

“The Hunger’s coming for you!” Lady Midnight said.

“I think they noticed that!” Rose said.

“Are we too late?” Lady Midnight asked. “Can we get them out of there.”

“We’re not too late,” Rose said, firing more [Thunder Shots] into the melee around Tessa.

“Who needs help more?” Lady Midnight asked.

“Tessa! Help Tessa!” Lost Alice said.

“On it,” Rose said. “[Multi-Burst] [Charged Shot] [Thunder Shot].”

The barrage of skills turned into a storm of lightning that Rip’s Tabbywile’s eyes couldn’t see through for several seconds. 

The good news, as her vision cleared, was that her attacks had drawn the attackers off Tessa.

The bad news was that her first sight of them was three of the [Hungry Shadows] leaping off the walls and slamming into her.

She screamed as the first Shadow dug its claws into her, tearing through her armor and slicing a bloody furrow into her left forearm. 

Another one clamped it’s teeth onto her other arm, immobilizing it and denying her the ability to fire any more arrows.

“[Casting spell: Minor Blood Channel],” Lost Alice called her, her voice dead calm.

Rose felt the blessed relief of healing magic pour into her, but Rip knew they were still in serious trouble. She didn’t have the durability of a tank and the healing from Lost Alice’s spell was not going to keep up with the damage the Shadows could do.

[Soul Render],” Tessa called out and her voice echoed like the corridor was a grand stadium. 

And then she was there too. Glowing hands hauled the [Hungry Shadows] off Rose and bashed them with blows the Shadows couldn’t ignore.

The [Hungry Shadows] were crueler to Tessa than they’d been Rose. Without Rose’s moderate armor, Tessa was more fragile to begin with and the [Soul Render] stance she’d borrowed from Pillowcase reduced her defenses even further.

Blood flew in too many directions, but Tessa didn’t stop fighting. 

The [Formless Hunger] may have been the one who could take people over, but Tessa was the one who fought like a woman possessed. From what Rose could see, she had completely abandoned any sense of self-preservation and was intent on nothing more than destroying the [Hungry Shadows] before they could harm anyone else.

Even if that meant they killed her.

“[Casting spell: Lesser Blood Channel],” Lady Midnight said, catching Tessa a moment before her health emptied out completely.

“[Torment],” Matt Painting said at the same moment, sending one of the [Hungry Shadows] writhing to the ground as [Lightning Snakes] swarmed over the rest.

The cavalry had arrived at last!

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 16


Protecting someone from their own foolishness wasn’t something healers were capable of. Lisa knew that. She also knew that fighting opponents who were level capped at 10 when Tessa was at best 6 or 7 and not a melee fighter was a recipe for a quick party wipe. The two of them were going to die, quickly and painfully, and neither of them knew where the nearest [Heart Fire] was. 

None of that changed what Lisa needed to do though.

Not given what she knew.

Tessa wasn’t fighting to win. Despite the odds against them though, she wasn’t being foolish or naive. She was trying to save Lisa.

Just like she had before.

Lisa choked back a bitter laugh.

They’d been together for less than two days was it? How was it possible there could have been so many chances for Tessa to put herself in danger? And why was she so often doing it for Lisa’s sake?

Lisa could have guessed the answer to that question but trusting her guess? That was something she’d never been good at.

“[Minor Provoking Strikes],” Pillowcase said, causing Tessa’s hands to glow briefly with a violet pulse of light.

“Don’t keep them on you!” Lisa said on their private channel, maintaining her healing spell to restore the damage Tessa was enduring. 

Being capped at a low level was saving them for a variety of reasons, since not only did it mean the Consortium soldiers couldn’t obliterate Tessa with each punch they threw, it also placed the fight in a realm where the healing Lost Alice’s spells provided was still overbearingly strong in comparison to Tessa’s health pool. Even strong magic had its limits though and five on one were well beyond what Lisa knew she could manage to mitigate for long.

“I have to tank them,” Pillowcase said. “If they go after you, we’re sunk.”

It was a lovely, protective sentiment, but Lost Alice could also see the tactical sense of it, even if Lisa didn’t want to consider Tessa’s loss as any part of a viable strategy.

Pillowcase threw one of the zombies into his fellow with enough force to send them both sprawling down the hallway. That left her with three foes for a moment, which she capitalized on by vaulting over the shoulders of one of them to place him between herself and the remaining forces.

Lisa wondered if she was going to use the zombie as a shield and almost dropped her spell when Pillowcase instead crouched to take the zombie down with a leg sweep.

The Hunger-Zombies seemed to be strong and very difficult to damage but coordination and rapid responses were not in their wheelhouse. They managed to land solid hits and cause serious injuries to Tessa but Lost Alice’s spell wasn’t about to let those linger for more than an instant.

Grabbing the zombie’s leg swept before it could hit the ground, Tessa hoisted the flailing thing up and closed ranks with the two she’d knocked away.

She turned the zombie into a battering ram as it tried to bring an overly ornate sidearm to bear for a shot. The space pistol flew out of the things grasp as Tessa slammed the zombie’s head into into the knee of one of its fellows.

It was an amazing show of force, spoiled only by two other zombies colliding with Pillowcase from either side, knocking her away from the injured zombies and bearing her back and down to the ground.

Pillowcase fought to escape the two as best she could, but they had a mass and strength advantage on her.

A static hiss of triumph rang from each of the zombies, but it was victory celebrated too soon. One the ground and overwhelmed, Pillowcase kept her head and used the advantages she still had at her disposal.

The zombies were strong and tough, but they were essentially mindless. With the Hunger directly controlling them, they could only react with brute force. They didn’t understand the body mechanics involved in wrestling or how their greater strength wasn’t great enough to withstand attacks at their joints.

Pillowcase broke three fingers on one of the hands that had grabbed her, which freed her to launch a crushing elbow into the face of the other zombie who was holding her. The physical trauma of the blow let her get both hands around the zombie’s head.

Tessa would have hesitated then. She would have wondered if the zombies could be reclaimed from the [Formless Hunger] and her natural reticence against violence would have made her look for some of the option. 

Pillowcase shattered the thing’s neck, twisting its head a full 180 degrees in one explosive jerk.

Lisa sucked in a breath, but Lost Alice held onto her spell. This wasn’t a fight they could afford to lose, and the zombies were doing everything in the Hunger’s power to kill them.

And the snapped neck wasn’t enough to stop them.

Pillowcase kicked free from the two injured zombies and rolled back to her feet, in time to see all five of them swarm towards her. 

There was a nice long open corridor behind her, but instead of fleeing, Pillowcase braced her feet against the wall and rocketed off from it, slamming into the zombies who were charging her. 

They all went feel into a pile again with the most disturbing element being the inhuman growling.

Which Pillowcase was making.

Lisa wanted to call out. Wanted to ask if Pillowcase, if Tessa, was okay. Wanted to offer a better strategy. Some method they could use to escape.

No words came to her though.

She couldn’t interrupt Pillowcase. Couldn’t distract her. Not when every fraction of a second was filled with critical moves and countermoves.

Pillowcase surged up from the pile of bodies, her hand rising into the shape of knife before she slammed it back into the zombies.

Lisa expected to see it to emerge covered in blood and perhaps holding a still beating heart, but what Tessa pulled from zombie she speared was even worse.

Around her hand, quickly eating away at it, liquid static hissed in a rage to match Pillowcase’s own.


They hadn’t found Pillowcase or Lost Alice yet. That worried Jamal. The two teams were supposed to be moving towards a common meeting point. With the extra speed his team was pouring on, they should have run into the Pillowcase somewhere past the midpoint between them, but well before the point they’d reached so far. The only explanation seem to be that something had happened to Pillowcase, or Lost Alice, or both of them.

Jamal wasn’t gripped by worry though. He was well beyond worried and into terrified.

They should have had an easy method of determining what was going on with Pillowcase and Lost Alice. Their “team chat line” had kept them in touch with each other even when they were separated by miles of solid stone and the planet’s ionosphere. 

Which each racing footfall, he waited for some response to the questions Rose and he had been spamming the chat line with with, but only silence answered them.

The same kind of silence as when Pillowcase and Lost Alice ran into the [Formless Hunger].

“We’re going to make it in time,” Rose said. She was struggling to stay with the group. Jamal could hear it in her voice. She was faster than the rest of them, thanks to her class change, and she wanted to unleash that speed more than anything else.

“I hope she’s right,” Matt Painting said, speaking only to Jamal inside the confines of their shared head space.

“She usually is,” Jamal said. Believing in her was easy. In himself not as much.

“It sounds like she inspires you the same as you do me?” Matt asked.

Jamal thought about that before replying.

“You know, I think she does?” he said. “She’s always been the braver of the two of us, but I never felt weird about that with her. I just wanted to live up to the kind of things she could see us doing.”

“I never had someone like that,” Matt said.

“You were always alone?” Jamal asked.

“No. I was constructed as part of a mass order. The others in my production lot were always with me, but we were locked down from the moment we gained self-awareness.”

“That’s unbearably evil.”

“I’m know that now,” Matt said. “The control spells they use kept us from being aware of it though. The pain we all felt then was something we assumed was a part of being alive. It wasn’t until you revived me that I understood what they’d done to us.”

“So, can I ask, why are you talking to me?” Jamal said. “I mean like why now and not before?”

“I didn’t understand what had happened at first,” Matt said. “When I woke up I thought you were another control program. I wasn’t being ordered to speak for myself, so I didn’t.”

“Hey, you can alway speak for yourself,” Jamal said. “I mean, I’m still not exactly clear on what’s happened here but I am not your controller.”

“I know. It’s part of why I wanted to speak up. We’re joined somehow, but it feels symbiotic. I never had to be brave before. The spells took care of making sure I could execute any orders given to me. I don’t know if I have any bravery of my own, but with us together like this I feel like I’m able to borrow some of yours.”

“Can you feel my emotions? Or read my thoughts? It sounded like that was a thing the others could do,” Jamal asked.

“I don’t think I can do either of those thing,” Matt said. “I know you can read some of mine though.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Jamal said. “When did I ever do that?”

“When you cast spells,” Matt said. “I can remember the verbalizations and the equations, but you’re the one who speaks the words and performs the gestures.”

“I thought that was something the game was doing for me,” Jamal said. “Now that you mention it though, it did feel like my head was going funny each time I cast something.”

“I felt more awake while we were casting too,” Matt said.

“Maybe that was you taking control of your body for a bit to finish the spell off right?” Jamal said. 

“I don’t know. It felt more like I was talking with you. I think you did all the actual casting.”

“But I’ve never cast a spell before. I don’t think that’s even possible in my world.”

“You appear to have a talent for it in this one,” Matt said.

“What happens if you want to cast a spell though?”

“I supposed I’d have to be the one to speak?” Matt said.

“Can you?”

“Sure, you’re not controlling me,” Matt said.

“But I’m running with your body now,” Jamal said. “Isn’t that like keeping you in prison?”

“It’s not like the one I was in before,” Matt said. “And I’m not sure you’re directing our actions. I think it’s both of us.”

Matt’s body slowed and fell back to the rear of the pack.

“We just chose that together, didn’t we?” Jamal asked.

“That’s what it felt like to me too,” Matt said. “Trying drifting to the left and I’ll see about the right.”

They continued on a straight course.

“Did you feel conflicted there too?” Jamal asked.

“I did. But I still can’t see your memories or read your thoughts,” Matt said.

“What are we then?” Jamal asked.

“Two people who need each other?” Matt said.

“You’d be fine with anyone though,” Jamal said. “You’re top of the line.”

“That’s not true,” Matt said. “I’m a refurbished unit. I failed the initial tests for being a viable combat caster. They made me a training target after they patched over the deficiencies they found. The only reason I was deployed into a combat zone was that [Supreme Commander Gernal] was attempting to keep costs low by using low value troops as disposable assets. I’m supposed to be so much stronger than I am.”

“You’re strong enough for me,” Jamal said. “All this has been a lot to take in. I think having our strength grow slowly has helped me keep a better handle on it.”

In the distance the sound of blaster fire echoing down the long stone corridors.

Together they quickened their pace to a full sprint, along with everyone else.

“Let’s hope I’m strong enough for them,” Matt said.

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 15


There’s never a good time for an attack by zombies with beam rifles to happen. Despite that, Pillowcase felt a particularly severe wave of rage wash over her focused on the ones who interrupted her conversation with Lost Alice. 

[Clothworks] weren’t designed with emotional motivators of course. Rage led to efficiency reductions and poor tactical planning. In an elite trooper those were serious design flaws. In an unfettered sapient though, ‘emotional motivators’ could serve as both a weapon and armor.

At least if there was enough training to back them up.

“Don’t…” Lost Alice started to say but Pillowcase heard the sound she’d been waiting for and knew they were out of time.

In dreadful unison, the zombies stopped firing. 

Then they began marching.

Tessa’s body wasn’t built for a fight. She’d been a programmer and exercise had not been her friend. If they’d been stuck in her body when they arrived, Pillowcase was pretty sure Tessa would have shattered her wrist the first time she tried to swing a mace.

Despite that, she was on her feet faster than Lost Alice could stop her. 

With her left hand, she grabbed the door and swung it open so she could lean out.

“Hey! You looking for another beating?” she called out, making eye contact with the closest Hunger zombie. It wasn’t the [Provoke] skill, but even without using her skills as a [Soul Knight], Pillowcase was confident she could hold the [Formless Hungers] enmity.

“…do anything stupid,” Lost Alice finished, dropping her hand in exasperation.

To her credit though that was the extent of her complaining. Lost Alice was still a relatively new adventurer, but Lisa was a veteran and the middle of a battle was rarely time for in depth tactical discussions.

The Hunger zombies seemed to agree with that point since they lurched forwards with the sort of coordination only badly manipulated rag dolls would be saddled with. 

For all their lack of grace though, they didn’t lack when it came to aiming their weapons. Only a terrifying jolt of adrenaline gave Tessa’s body the speed to pull back into the doorway and avoid a barrage of blasts that would have left her a sizzled corpse.

“[Casting spell: Counter Death],” Lost Alice said, placing the mystic barrier around Tessa. 

Before Tessa had a chance to thank her, the first of the made it to the door, round into the doorframe with its rifle at shoulder height.

Pillowcase smashed him with the door, sending the rifle flying and knocking the zombie back into the far wall.

It was an impressive hit but it wasn’t what she’d wanted to do. 

She’d hoped to stun the zombie but keep him within arms reach so she could properly grapple him and use him as a shield against his comrades.

Except they would have happily shot through their comrade to get to her.

Pillowcase slotted that idea in and asked her brain for a new plan. Tessa’s grey matter wasn’t imprinted with tactical studies and battle protocols like Pillow’s mind stitches were, but human brains weren’t bad hardware for working out that sort of task on the fly.

The next two zombies arrived before her mind spit out a strategy though, so she followed her impulses.

With the door closed between them, the zombies had try to open it. They opted to pull rather than push, which Pillowcase resisted for a second.

“[Casting spell: Lesser Bood Channel],” Lost Alice said.

Pillowcase felt a pulsing warmth spread through her and pains she hadn’t noticed Tessa was carrying faded away.

The zombie yanked harder and the door slipped halfway out of Pillowcase’s grip. She struggled to pull it back a few inches, gritting her teeth and growling. [Clothworks] fought without unnecessary noises but Pillowcase wasn’t fighting like a [Clothwork].

Nor was she fighting as a [Human].

At least not one from Tessa’s world.

The instant the zombies flexed to pull the door open, Pillowcase reversed her hold and threw her full weight behind slamming the door into the zombies’ faces.

This is where it’s going to start to suck, she warned Tessa, in order to brace herself against what she knew was going to follow.

With three zombies momentarily prone, the other two were blocked from getting to the door. They were not however blocked from taking shots at Tessa.

With a speed that didn’t quite rival Alice’s, Pillowcase ducked under the pair of shots which instantly flew at her. She was fast, but that was relative to Tessa’s old self. Dodging blaster fire wasn’t in her wheel house just yet.

One bolt took her in the right arm while the other punched a neat hole through her lower abdomen. Neither hit was instantly fatal and she was so keyed up on a cocktail of fear, anger, and determination that the pain didn’t overwhelm her.

Instead, she felt another tick of the [Lesser Blood Channel] send mystical healing throughout her body. 

Lost Alice had her back and having someone she was choosing to fight for made a world of difference in staying focused and staying brave. She wasn’t fully repaired when she barrelled into the two, but the pain from her wounds didn’t hold her back at all.

With another roar she slammed both of the zombies to the floor. 

A moment later she was dragged to the ground by two of the other zombies.

On the bright side, her attack with the door had fractured their rifles badly enough that the control mechanisms in the rifles wouldn’t let them fire. 

So Pillowcase got the melee fight she’d been hoping for.

Against five foes, each of whom was stronger than she was.

But not by as much as they should have been?

As she tossed one of them off her and into the wall, Tessa sent a silent question as to how Pillowcase was doing that.

Pillowcase had no idea. She hadn’t planned on Tessa having any more strength than she remembered possessing on Earth. Adding that data point to the equation though allowed her subconscious to finish the plan it was working on.

Pillowcase hadn’t expected Tessa’s new found strength, but she knew exactly how to use it.


Yawlorna had met precisely one [Vampire] before coming to the refuge of the last survivors of [Sky’s Edge]. Lost Alice hadn’t been what she’d expected when she thought of “a dreadful drinker or blood and souls” but she’s chalked that up to cultural differences. 

Back at home the folklore around [Vampires] cast them as shadowy wraiths capable of paralyzing their victims before slowing drinking them dry. It was considered an especially ignoble death in the old stories since a “True Warrior” was supposed to have an incorruptible will and be able to shrug off the shackles of the undead control.

Yawlorna was proud of how well she could fight. It was part of why she’d been given command of the exploratory expedition. Her crew knew they were venturing into dangerous territory and having someone who could lead them through both academic bureaucracy as well as a pitched battle gave them the courage to face risks that no sensible post-grad would ever risk.

From what Yawlorna had seen of Lost Alice though, only academic prowess was really a required skill for dealing with a [Vampire]. Far from being a mesmerizing monster, Lost Alice had been rather quiet and withdrawn at first, and while she was certainly dangerous, that seemed to be a trait shared by all of the [Adventurers].

The [Vampires] who joined the refugees however were another story.

Yawlorna was eight feet tall. She had more muscle mass that any three of the townsfolk of [Sky’s Edge] put together. Her “demonic” heritage also gifted her with a number of other traits the average person in the [High Beyond] lacked. 

None of that made her feel safe in the presence of the clan of predators which entered the room.

They weren’t exactly living shadows, the [Vampires] of the [High Beyond] but the shadows moved around them in a strange and worrisome manner. 

What was worse though was the air they presented themselves with. 

They didn’t arrive in the cavern as guests, carefully seeking an entrance which wouldn’t trouble their hosts. They didn’t arrive as enemies either though. There was no direct aggression in how they strode into the room.

Each one seemed instead to be a ancient [Lord] entering their own ancestral castle and discovering nothing more noteworthy than that the servants were milling about rather than attending to them directly.

“Now there are some people who do not feel comfortable at all,” Pendant said, gesturing towards the [Vampires] with the cup he’d been drinking from.

How a skeleton drank anything without the liquid splattering onto the floor below was unclear. The researcher in Yawlorna had that as one of the five thousand questions she had for “Mister Pendant” if she could ever get hold of a good note taking device. Without that though she was content to simply engage him in conversation.

“Uncomfortable? Is that what draping themselves over every elevated horizontal surface they can find means?” Yawlorna asked.

“Oh, they’re putting on a fine show of being perfectly at ease,” Pendant said. “Consider though, should anyone be perfectly at ease in a situation like this?”

“Maybe if they were so powerful no one here was a challenge?” Yawlorna said.

“There are people like that,” Pendant agreed. “Unfortunately they’re not here at the moment.”

“That’s a bad thing?” Yawlorna asked, trying to imagine what sort of monster might dwarf the host around her.

Pendant shrugged.

“Eh, the one I’m thinking of is one of the nicest people I know,” he said. “To be fair though, you’re not wrong that there are many others who would not be so enjoyable to be sharing this room with.”

“I’m frankly still amazed that we’re all managing to share this area as well as we are,” Yawlorna said, taking another pull from the mug Pendant had given her. In her back, muscles she’d long since forgotten that she’d pulled relaxed and seemed to knit themselves back together. She wanted to ask what sort of magic could ease wounds so old that they’d become a part of her, but, again, without a notepad to write things down on, she felt like the answers would vanish in the haze of whatever crisis next lay ahead of them.

“I notice the children seem to be enamored with your people the most,” Pendant said.

“The feeling seems to be mutual,” Yawlorna said. “I can’t get over how many of them there are. Most of our cities are far larger than this village and we might have half as many children in them as they have here. What are their fertility rates like?”

“Rather astounding if given a supportive environment,” Vixali, the [Vampire Queen] said.

She appeared beside Yawlorna as though materializing from a gentle gust of wind. Yawlorna was reasonably certain that the [Vampire Queen] had simply walked over, but her presence was so muted that even Yawlorna’s gifts hadn’t fully kept track of her.

Yawlorna’s instincts had some choice things to say about that. Ambush predators who were capable of ambushing her were the sort of creature it was generally wise to exterminate on sight, since there was little guarantee that you’d catch sight of them again until they had their claws in you. 

Despite her brute-ish qualities though, Yawlorna did not listen to those instincts.

As Pendant had said, the situation was one were every ally they could garner might be needed if any of them were to survive.

“You desire something?” she asked instead of skewering the [Vampire Queen].

“Yes,” Vixali said. “You. I desire you.”

Yawlorna cast a quizzical gaze at her. In Yawlorna’s eyes, the [Vampire Queen] was tiny, and hornless enough to appear as an oddly colored adolescent. Yawlorna knew Vixali had to be more than a toddler but without further information it was hard to take her as much else.

“For what?” Yawlorna asked, and allowed her confusion to show plainly on her face.

“You are large,” Vixali said. “The people here respect that. I need you to make them feel safe with being around me.”

“And how would I do that?” Yawlorna asked.

“Stand with them when I talk to them,” Vixali said. “If you’re by their side, they won’t be quite so concerned I’m going to eat them.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then in about two minutes they’ll be descending on my people with staves and fire,” Vixali said. “We were invited, but that doesn’t mean we’re welcome I’m afraid.”

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 14

Lost Alice

The shift in perspective was easier for Lisa to follow than it had been in the past. When she’d been talking with Tessa in the hallways, she’d been almost fully herself as ‘Lisa’. Lost Alice was still there, but somewhat like a mask Lisa had pushed up onto her head. 

When the first shot was fired though, all that had changed.

Despite Lost Alice’s vampiric speed, Tessa had reacted faster, pure human terror surpassing the monstrous reflexes at Lost Alice’s command. Lost Alice hadn’t wasted time worrying about that. There was violence and danger and that was her world, not Lisa’s. One mask came down as the other rose up.

Beside her, she saw Tessa’s posture shift as well, going from a a timid pose to one which was ready to spring into the sort of action which would be ill conceived for a very breakable human who was unused to life and death combat.

An ill conceived posture for a human, but not an unfamiliar one.

Lost Alice knew where she’s seen the expression Tessa was wearing.

“Pillowcase?” she asked, puzzled by how clearly the other side of Tessa was present in Tessa’s eyes and mouth and grin.

“More or less,” Pillowcase answered.

Lost Alice could have contemplated the ramifications of that, could have wondered if the shift was similar to her own, where “Lisa” now felt like a mask pushed up on her head rather than any sort of  “more real personality” who’d been hidden beneath a “Lost Alice” mask.

“Can you use your skills? Or access your equipment?” Lost Alice asked, seeing many possibilities where Pillowcase in Tessa’s body could go wrong.. 

The puppeted Consortium soldiers would come for them. Lost Alice knew that. The Hunger had directed the soldiers this far, it wasn’t going to leave them firing uselessly in all directions. How long it would need to reassert a degree of control after bursting into a spasm of rage was anyone’s guess but Alice was willing to bet it wouldn’t be long.

“My equipment seems to be stuck with my body. Wherever that is,” Pillowcase said. “I might be able to use some of my abilities though. I hope.”

“I don’t like that,” Lost Alice said. “Their weapons are strong enough for one shot kills if they land an accurate shot.”

“Not one shot,” Pillowcase said. “They’ll need at least two, unless there’s an ongoing damage element to the burns?”

“There seems to be,” Lost Alice said, thinking back to what Tessa’s leg injury was doing to her health until it had been healed. “It’s neutralized when the major damage is repaired but there may be no window for healing between the first shot and the fatal tick of damage which follows.”

“I’ll have to make sure I don’t take a hit like that then,” Pillowcase said, and offered Lost Alice the barest hint of a smile, as though her face was still woven of a fabric which could never properly express the joyful spirit within it.

While seeing Tessa’s human form was all sort of delicious, for a variety of reasons, both vampiric and non-, Lost Alice found herself missing the far more durable body Pillowcase normally wore.

“There must be a level cap effect in place here,” Pillowcase said. “Otherwise that shot would have blown my leg off or vaporized me completely. I think Tessa’s still below it as a [Void Speaker] though.”

Lost Alice glanced at her own stats. She hadn’t seen a level cap in effect before but apparently one had descended on them with the start of hostilities.

“We’re down to level 10 here,” she said, surprised that it was so low. The previous capped zone they’d been in was 20 and even that had been surprisingly limited for a spot which lore claimed to have been the home of the gods. A moment’s thought produced the obvious reason though. “I guess the gods who set this place up didn’t want anyone wrecking it if a brawl got out of control.”

“No danger of that,” Pillowcase said. “Those plasma rifles they have don’t seem to be able to damage anything but flesh and blood.”

Lisa could think of several advantages to that, especially for troops which might need to fight on space ships where casual holes in the walls could be taken as a bad thing by default.

“When they come close, let me try to pull their attention,” Pillowcase said. “I don’t have any specific [Skills] for disarming people, but the combat training that was stitched into me has a decent set of hand-to-hand techniques so I should at least be able to get in close enough that I can use one of them as a shield and make this a melee rather than gun battle.”

“If all five of them pile on you, that’s still not going to be good for us,” Lost Alice said. “I’m still higher level than you. My strength and speed can substitute for skill well enough.”

“If you get tied up in a grapple though, casting spells is going to get tricky,” Pillowcase said. “Also, I’m the one those guys want, probably, so they might not stick with you anyways.”

“I’ll take ‘might not kill me’ in place of ‘will definitely kill you’, thank you,” Lost Alice said. Not for the first time, she wished she had an immobilization spell which could be cast on party members.

“I’m not a fan of dying either,” Pillowcase said. “It’s easier to see that through Tessa’s eyes. And with your help. But , trust me, I’m not being foolish here. This is best option I can see for both of us surviving.”

“I don’t need a guarantee of survival if it means putting you in jeopardy though!” Lost Alice said, aggravated that Pillowcase couldn’t see how important it was to keep Tessa’s body safe and sound. 

If the woman in front of her died, or even just had to disappear again, Lost Alice wasn’t sure how well she’d handle it. The mere thought of it froze her undead heart.

“And I’m not going to avoid jeopardy when there’s a chance I can keep you safe from being being eaten by the [Hounds of Fate],” Pillowcase said. “I know we’ve had good luck with them so far, but we also know there are a lot of adventurers who haven’t and I…” She faltered for a second, and took a deliberate breath before finishing. “I can’t let that happen to you.”

Lost Alice was a perceptive woman. [Vampires] had to be. She hadn’t been able to read Pillowcase all that well before in part because of the artificial constraints on a [Clothwork’s] face and in part because Lisa hadn’t been ready to.

Seeing the heart wrenching concern in Tessa’s eyes though made denying the other feelings which were swirling there difficult indeed though. 


Time was not on Azma’s side. Nor were fate, luck, or the vast majority of the [Consortium of Pain].

So it was a fairly typical day for her.

What irritated her weren’t the numerous forces stacked against her, but rather the missed opportunity.

She’d encountered someone in the opposition who seemed like they approached her level of strategic acumen. She didn’t know who her foe was directly, but the indirect portrait the moves of their game had painted was delightful. The enemy commander was compassionate and cautious with her forces, but hadn’t refrained from sending them into battles Azma had been convinced were already lost by the defenders, only to see the battles turn around thanks to the precision of the defender’s attacks. 

It had been better than winning. It had been fun.

And Azma had far too little fun in her life.

As she keyed in the final codes to put her current plan in action, she looked for that sort of challenge in the task before her.

To be certain, turning around the disaster the operation had become was setting an even higher bar for herself than simply conquering the planet. Even with the brilliance of her opponent, and the frankly unreasonable power of the special forces the defenders had assembled, the conquest of the [Fallen Kingdoms] was never truly in doubt in Azma’s mind. She’d reformed the task force she’d been given into one which was more than sufficient for the operation while also being on the bleeding edge between understaffed and economical. In the unlikely event the defenders were able to significantly outperform their observed metrics, she had plenty of budgetary room to bring in an even larger armada, with even more specialized  units.

But that would have spoiled the game with her opponent.

And cost her standing with the Consortium.

But mostly she’d been continued limiting herself once the defenders started doing well because she wished to preserve the balance of the conflict rather than winning through the bludgeon of superior resources.

With those resources cut off, and an even more challenging task before her though, Azma didn’t feel the same fulfilling excitement. 

The [Formless Hunger] was a more deadly foe and cunning to a degree but its power made it blunt and, ultimately, uninteresting as an opponent. She already knew what would happen when the containment units began to surge out of control.

The Hunger would move towards #7, slowly at first, wary of another assault like the one it had repelled, and then swiftly, throwing the wariness aside, as it sensed the feast which had been laid before it.

As it gorged itself, Azma’s wayward tech crew would flee their positions, drawing its attention.

Then containment unit #3 would fire up, forcing the Hunger to chose between the paltry reward of pursuing a crew who was somewhat warded against it or enjoying yet another meal.

The rest of her forces, the one’s still pinned down within the Hunger’s expanded area of influence, would see this and begin streaming in the opposite direction, taking advantage of the short window the Hunger’s distraction afford them.

The crew from containment unit #7 would be swept up in the tide and would begin explaining what happened, as all techs seemed to feel compelled to do. That would plant the seeds in everyone’s mind that someone had been responsible for their salvation, and by not appearing before them and claiming credit, Azma would ensure that they didn’t reject that salvation as a stratagem from someone compromised by the Hunger’s mind devouring capabilities.

From there it would be a race. The Hunger would grow, it’s appetite growing with it, and her forces would flee, seeking to escape it’s ever growing zone of influence.

As the Hunger surged back to collected its fleeing prey, Azma would have her chance to strike. 

She couldn’t give orders to the personnel of her fleet anymore, but the Director of Xenobiology wouldn’t have had enough time to uncover all of her backdoors into the system controls for the ships themselves.

Blowing up a capital ship was an expensive proposition. Blowing up her own capital ship was even worse since she was directly responsible for its full value. The other twenty ships she would need to detonate to render the [Formless Hunger] sessile would have amounted to a catastrophic loss and an immediate termination in any other operation.

In this case though, the honor of bringing in a fully preserved Transdimensional Entity made the action viable.

Especially since all of the important data from the ships would be preserved when the crew was allowed to escape on the life pods.

And there was the small fact that, since the Director of Xenobiology was officially in the command of the operation (something which she would acknowledge in the shuttle’s records for use as evidence later), he would be the one to bear the overall liability for the lost ships, since all of the flight control systems would nominally be under his control.

Azma doubted the Director would be found personally liable. Accountability was not something people above a certain level in the Consortium typically had to deal with. At best, she imagined, it would be just another negative mark on his somewhat precarious overall record.

Really, the only tricky part about her plan involved setting the proper navigation patterns into the ships she planned to use.

Translight jumps near a planet were risky under the best of circumstances, with a full crew to execute them. 

She needs to plot all of their trajectories to insure that the twenty one ships de-warped simultaneously within, ideally, inches of the Hunger’s primary body and with the ship’s power plants ready to undergo an unrestrained [Nova Reaction] within no more than four nanoseconds of arrival in [Standard Space]. A mistake would either feed the Hunger more fuel or, more likely, erase the atomic integrity of the satellite moon, the planet, and everything else within several astronomical units.

Fortunately, Azma did not make mistakes.

In the distance, she heard containment unit #7 roar to life and smiled.

The die was cast.

All she had to do was sit back and win.

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 13


The room Tessa rolled Lost Alice and herself into wasn’t as grandiose as the hidden dimensional pocket where Kralt had been hiding but it was similar in the sense that it was another library. Or it had been intended to be. After rolling through the door, Tessa found herself clinging to Lost Alice as they both skidded into a solid shelving unit which was empty of the books it was designed to hold.

“Who are they?” Lisa asked, moving with preternatural speed to examine Tessa’s body for damage.

Tessa winced as Lisa found the hole that had been burnt through her calf muscle. Shock and surprise had kept her from registering the fact that the shots fired at them had been accurate enough to do damage and adrenaline was blunting the worst of the pain from really being processed.

Before that condition could change, Lost Alice slapped a healing spell on her and the wound faded to nothingness.

“That could not have been a solid hit,” Pillowcase said, speaking to Tessa as Tessa’s mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

“Yeah, our leg is still attached, and my version of it isn’t covered rune-enhanced like yours is,” Tessa said. “Or is it?”

“I don’t think so,” Pillowcase said. “A proper set of defensive runes would have spread the damage out to reduce it even if it failed. That shot only hit a small area but it went right through.”

From outside the room, the whir of more shots from the freaky space rifles resounded. Underneath it lay an even more disturbing sound though.

“Were those Consortium soldiers?” Lisa asked.

“I don’t think so,” Tessa said. “Or at least not anymore. Do you hear that laughing?”

“Yeah, and the crackle of static,” Lisa said. “But how could the Hunger look like a space trooper with a gun? Why would it even use guns in the first place?” 

“Don’t know. If I had to guess though?” Tessa said. “What if it ate some of the Consortium forces but didn’t, like, digest them?”

“Ewww, but, ok, sure, why wouldn’t that be something it could do. Nightmares always get worse right?” Lisa said. “How would it know how to use a gun though?”

The firing continued from the corridor, though it wasn’t getting closer. If anything it seemed like the soldiers had been driven wild and were aiming in random directions.

“Again, guessing here, but it might be a good news/bad news sort of thing,” Tessa said. “The bad news is, if those really are puppets of some kind, then the Hunger can access their memories and skills.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty bad,” Lisa said. “What happens if it eats a spellcaster. Or a tank?”

“Worst case? It gets all our abilities,” Tessa said. “Slightly better case is that it only gets the ability to make each puppets use its own abilities. And a slightly better option would be it might mean that the people the Hunger eats still exist enough that the process could be reversed.”

“And the good news in all this would be?”

“If it’s gaining our abilities, it could be gaining our weaknesses too,” Tessa said. “That thing wasn’t even vaguely physical the first time we ran into it. Now it’s walking around in mind-jacked bodies? Maybe the more it absorbs from the this world, the more a part of it the Hunger becomes.”

“Huh, let me check something,” Lisa said, as Lost Alice rose and did a lightning fast peek out of the doorway. “Yep. Those things have health bars.”

“And if it’s got a health bar, we can kill it,” Tessa said chanting the age old mantra players had sung since health bars were a thing. 

She wanted to cheer the news with gusto but the words warbled in her throat.

She could hear the static too. It was supposed to be bursts of random hissing and her ears told her that’s all it was. Just a weird sound the possessed creatures were making? If possessed was the right term? She couldn’t think about that too deeply though. Couldn’t think about them. Not without her heart recoiling.

Her heart that heard the malice lurking in the static. It wasn’t random crackles and sizzles, a trembling voice inside her said. It was one long, continuous scream of hate. 

A scream that built to a crescendo along with the riotous outpouring of fire from the [Consortium Beam Rifles]. 

It wanted her dead. It wanted her erased. It wanted her consumed. That was all it wanted in the whole of its existence.

Tessa had encountered hate before. It tore at her. Even a brush with it left wounds bleeding inside her. Shaking uncertainties and fears that gobbled up her comfort and shredded what strength she could scrape together.

Throwing a glance around the room she looked for other exits. Somewhere to run to. 

“We’re boxed in here,” Pillowcase said, aware of what Tessa’s senses had reported which had escaped Tessa’s conscious notice. “Good news though; the beam rifles don’t seem to be able to punch through the walls here and the door’s made of the same stuff. So it’ll make a good shield.”

“There’s nothing to secure it with though,” Tessa said observing the hinge which let the door swing in both directions. “They’ll be able to pull it open and shoot us.”

“Yeah. If we let them,” Pillowcase said.

“How are we supposed to stop them?” Tessa said. “I saw at least five soldiers out there. I don’t think Lost Alice can handle five on one odds unless they’re a really fragile breed of trooper.”

From Pillowcase’s memories, Tessa was sure that a squad of five who’d be sent anywhere near the [Ruins of Heaven’s Grave] wouldn’t have been drawn from the underperforming end of the Consortium’s talent pool.

“Not alone she can’t,” Pillowcase said.

“I don’t think I can fight those things,” Tessa said. “I’m not a fighter. I freaking out just thinking about it.”

“I know,” Pillowcase said. “This kind of thing isn’t your job. You weren’t build and trained for violence and that’s a fantastic thing. We need you to be who you are, not a Warrior Princess who’s always looking to bust heads open.”

“Yeah, but right now a Warrior Princess is what we need,” Tessa said.

“And that’s why we’ve got me,” Pillowcase said as her smile spread across Tessa’s lips.


The odds against them were poor. Azma had accounted for that. Was in fact banking on it, in a fairly literal sense given that when all was said and done, the project still needed to show a positive return on the Consortium’s investments. Crises were expected, operational catastrophes were known to occur, things far beyond the control of anyone could and often did destroy even the best laid plans. Those were all interesting subjects for the “Personal anecdotes” section of the final report, but ultimately irrelevant to the Consortium’s Review Board for whom everything boiled down to the bottom line.

Azma could pull off a miracle, salvage everything, rescue all of the troops, overthrow the planet, regain control of the task force from Xenobiology, and even deliver the [Formless Hunger] for dissection and if the net result was a loss registered against the Consortium’s quarterly earnings then all her support would vanish in the wind, as would her position, and, very likely, her life, though not in that order.

“These readings are proving difficult to parse,” Grenslaw said. “The personal shielding enhancements are obfuscating about eighty percent of the data we’re receiving and it’s not a rich data stream to begin with.”

“Be thankful for that,” Azma said. “If it wasn’t an indirect stream, there’d be too much there for the shields to handle. Under no circumstances, even direct orders, are you to risk corruption by the entity. Is that understood?”

“Yes. What is the window on gathering the telemetry we need?” Grenslaw asked.

“For maximum value, we’ll need a complete analysis of the [Formless Hunger’s] current state within three minutes,” Azma said. “From there to roughly twenty minutes we can still leverage the information. Beyond that we’ll need a different approach.”

“I’ll have something for you in two minutes then,” Grenslaw said.

“What is it we’re trying to do here?” Sergeant Fiori asked.

“Communication with the rest of our forces on the satellite moon is currently restricted due to the creature’s interference,” Azma said. “That means I can’t recall them or give them a specific direction to move in for extraction.”

“I thought once the troops were compromised extraction was forbidden?” Fiori said. “Too much chance that thing would leap to the rest of the fleet.”

“Extraction of compromised personnel is, unfortunately, off the table for now,” Azma said. “For the rest of our forces though, we can get them off this moonlet. They will be quarantined from the rest of the fleet until the Hunger is brought under control, but each one of them still retains a positive value profile so the Consortium will not liquidate them unless no other options are present.”

“How do we get the ones who aren’t brain fried to go somewhere for pickup though? Won’t the Hunger just assume we’re assembling a buffet for it if they gather together?” Fiori asked.

“That’s exactly what will happen if we can’t draw its attention elsewhere,” Azma said. 

“Scan complete,” Grenslaw said. “We have 80 seconds remaining in the three minute deadline.”

Azma was tempted to wait for seventy nine seconds, just savoring the bliss of a delegated job being performed beyond expectations. As with many temptations though, she knew that one could inevitably come with a heavy cost. Time was a wonderful gift, but even so great a deposit as a minute and twenty second would be consumed when things inevitably began to fall apart.

Best to spend it wisely.

“Excellent. It appears that containment units 3 and 7 are both within striking range of the Hunger’s most stabilized areas. And there’s a crew still at 7?” Azma felt her breath catch. The universe was almost being too generous. Two inert but still intact containment units and one nominally active crew? 

Another commander would have seen those as anchors sinking their bottomline even further. Neither unit was capable of containing the Hunger, and of the twelve person crew, only three remained, one of whom was gravely wounded. 

To Azma it was perfect.

The crew wasn’t lost. They were witnesses. All she needed to do was give them time to escape the area. Two minutes would be sufficient in most cases but Azma keyed in her instructions to containment unit 7 for five minutes instead. The two uninjured technicians would be carrying their wounded comrade out of the impending blast area. That would slow them down and restrict the number of viable refuges they could pile into.

And they would need a good refuge.

What Azma was doing was well outside the allowed rules of engagement for Transdimensional Entities. As the number 7 containment unit powered up again though, she let the rush of ignoring foolish protocols wash over her.

Not that a rule against feeding nascent reality destroying monsters was necessarily a bad idea. By most reasonable lights, the last thing anyone should want to do with a monster like the [Formless Hunger] was encourage its growth and maturation.

Asthma fought the urge to cackle. It would have been appropriate as she committed the number 3 containment unit to power up after number 7’s destruction.

She wasn’t just risking that the [Formless Hunger] would gain more power, she was guaranteeing it.

But she was also guaranteeing that, for a little while at least, it would dance to her tune.

Ultimately, for all the terrible power the Hunger possessed, it was a simple creature. It’s desires were circumscribed by the core of its nature.

It was ravenous. Give it food and it would eat. Dangle a morsel before it and it would move towards it. Present it with a feast behind an impenetrable barrier and it would bend its every resource to breaking that barrier, and, being what it was, the barrier would shatter.


Azma knew she could control the beast, she knew she could get her troops out of danger, she even knew she could eventually ensnare the Hunger and bring it back to the Consortium on her terms.

After all there was nothing more such a mindless creature could want than to feast, and working with the Consortium she was all too familiar with those whose hunger was unending.

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 12


The tremor in Tessa’s hands spoke volumes to Lisa. She’d seen people’s hands shake when they’d worked out too much. She’s seen them shake when their blood sugar dropped too low. Tessa’s weren’t shaking for those reasons, though the trick she did in Kralt’s library might have over extended her, and Lisa had no idea when the last time they’d had regular human food was.

“It’s ok if we catch up to the others a bit late,” she said, guiding Tessa to take seat by the wall for support. “Why don’t we take a moment to catch our breath here first.”

“But you don’t breathe,” Tessa said. She sounded like she was trying to be teasing but the undercurrent of anxiety betrayed the fact that her mind was racing over other thoughts.

“And we should have something to eat. Did your pack come with any [Adventurer’s Rations]?” Lisa asked, skipping past Tessa’s comment to keep her focused on meeting her physical needs. 

As Tessa hunted around in her inventory for some basic rations, Lisa wondered why her starter gear hadn’t come with a bunch of blood bottles. Those probably weren’t strictly necessary she decided since within the game food was only for buffs and [Vampires] tended to pick those up from feeding on enemies, which were plentiful everywhere.

“It look like I’ve got some [Traveler’s Rations],” Tessa said, citing a slightly higher grade of started food than the [Adventurer’s Rations]. “But I’m fine. I can eat them as we go.”

“Are you though?” Aptomos, or Ashad, said. Even as a slime, he was able to form a concerned expression as he leaned forward to get a better look at Tessa.

“Yeah, I was just being dramatic,” Tessa said. “It’s nothing.”

“Nibble on the rations to start with,” Lisa said. “I got a [Wineskin] with my starter pack that you can use to wash them down.”

“Ugh, I’ve never been a fan of wine,” Tessa said.

The game effect of drinking was to replenish a character’s magic pool, with any sort of beverage offering some enhanced recovery. Lisa didn’t know if ‘destroying a pocket dimension’ was necessarily a magic consuming action, but, on the chance that Tessa had depleted her internal reserves, Lisa passed her the [Wineskin] anyways.

“I think this one’s only filled with water,” Lisa said, since she hadn’t paid for any more exotic beverage to fill the [Wineskin] with. 

Tessa took an experimental swing, and then a much longer pull.

“It’s cold!” she said. “And, yeah, just water, but it’s like it came from a refrigerator.”

“Or a mountain stream,” Ashad said. “I remember WD, he’s one of the developers, talking about this idea that since the [Wineskins] never actually emptied or turned stale they must have some kind of portal at the bottom to a fresh source. He thought a mountain stream would be best, but I always though they should just make fresh water magically.”

“Well, it’s good either way,” Tessa said and took another long pull.

“Have some more of the rations,” Lisa said. 

It would take a while before the food had any effect of Tessa’s system. Probably longer than they could spend recovering her strength, but that was ok. Lisa was trying to address any physical conditions first because grounding the body was the best method she knew for giving an agitated mind a chance to come back to equilibrium. 

“The kids are going to freak out if we take too long getting to them,” Tessa said. 

“We’re still in telepathic contact with them when we need to be,” Lisa said. “We can reassure them the instant they get worried.”

She wasn’t reaching out proactively because saying ‘Tessa needs to collapse for a little bit, we’re going to run late’ would incite Rip and Matt to take the worst sort of risks and both of them knew it.

“I’m ok though,” Tessa said.

“Are you?” Lisa asked. “We’ve all been through a lot, but you got hit with far more than any of the rest of us.”

“It’s my job right?” Tessa said, trying to add a wry smile to her words as she began to stand.

“Because you’re our tank? If you want to go by that line of reasoning then my job is support you and make sure your in the best shape possible, so sit down. Your healer commands it.”

Tessa rolled her eyes but she did sit down, her shoulders sagging with involuntary relaxation. 

“Maybe you can bring me up to speed a bit?” Ashad asked. “The last I saw only a few people had been shifted from our world to this one. I take it a lot more got pulled over though?”

“As far as we can tell, everyone who was logged in before they shutdown the authentication server is at risk,” Tessa said. “I think there are still some people who were logged in but whose characters have stayed safe so they’re still in both worlds.”

Together Lisa and Tesa fielded Ashad’s other questions, explaining what little they knew of what was happening on Earth and what kind of things they’d run across. The explanations grew a little fuzzy when Tessa tried to describe what had happened to her when she faced the [Formless Hunger] and Lisa was careful to give her all the time she needed to work through her explanations of the experience. When she got around to explaining her new class, Ashad’s eyes widened with inspiration.

“Wait here just a moment, ok!” he said. “I think I can help.”

He bounced off as only a [Slime] could, leaving the two of them at least briefly alone.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Tessa said, without trying to rise again. “I mean, if something happens, it’s not your fault. You don’t have to carry that responsibility.”

Lisa reached over and took Tessa’s hand in her own. There was still a tremble that ran through them, but it was a quieter one than before they’d sat down.

“I want that responsibility,” Lisa said. “I care about you. Not just as a healer and tank team, and not just because you saved me from a painful death. I…”

Lisa wasn’t sure how she was going to finish that statement, and in the pause as she gathered her words, the opportunity to put her thoughts in order was ripped away from her.

The plasma bolt which slammed into her forearm didn’t burn it to ash. It just hurt, leaving a bad scorch march on her robes and a nasty burn underneath them,

Before she could process anything beyond noticing the three armored figures at the end of the hall who were all aiming space rifles at them, she felt Tessa tackling her through one of the doors on the opposite side of the hall.

A small, out of step fragment of her was delighted at the unexpected closeness while the rest of her was screaming one word.



Listening to the ranting of someone who outranked him was one of the perils of Byron Grey’s job. For the Consortium of Pain’s Director of Xenobiology though, he was willing to endure the tirade with unusually good cheer.

“They tried to capture the damn thing before we were even on sight!” Maldrax Odful, the Director of Xenobiology said. “You said they had it safely contained, not that they were planning to subjugate it!”

“Come now Mald,” Bryon said. “You know I said nothing at all about this. It’s not one of my projects at all.”

“Bah,” Maldrax said. “We both know the leak came from that turd Whiteweather and he hasn’t had an original idea in his head since his two brain cells fissioned from one another.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny Whiteweather’s absence of original thought,” Byron said. They were speaking on a line with Director-class security, both in rooms warded by all the proper surveillance countermeasures and yet Byron would have laid a considerable part of his yearly bonus on the fact that they were being monitored regardless.

Maldrax huffed, unhappy at Byron’s circumspection but recognizing its value. They’d both risen through the ranks at roughly the same time. That Madrax had made Director before Byron wasn’t a point of contention between them only because they were employed in different divisions and therefor didn’t need to see each other as competitors.

They were of course. Byron knew that everyone was a competitor ultimately, and trust and camaraderie were an indulgence which was as useful to practice as any other sort of combat art.

“The worst part though, do you want to hear this? Of course you do. But you know it already don’t you?” Maldrax said.

“I assure you I am blissfully unaware of any unpleasant particulars with the operation you’re now in charge of,” Byron said.

“But that’s just it!” Maldrax’s temple pulsed with a vein which bore far too much blood pressure. Byron was convinced that Maldrax was moments away from a catastrophic failure of his entire pulmonary system, but he’d been convinced of that for years and the collapse had lingered there on the edge of possibility the whole time. “I’m not official in change yet. That vulture left and went right into the blackout zone.”

“Really?” Byron said, showing all of the surprise which he did not feel. “That’s a rather bold and unusual move for a task force’s Supreme Commander to take.”

“It’s a miserable attempt to hold onto her command as long as she can,” Maldrax said.

“It doesn’t seem like that should be a problem,” Byron said. “You outrank her and you’ve been given clearance. Can’t you just, I don’t know, call up the Steering Committee and have them officially transfer the command receipts to your name?”

“Of course I can! What do you think was the first thing I did when I found she’d fled the ship and left us locked out of the primary bridge control room?”

“It would seem that your problem is solved then,” Byron said. “Surely the Steering Committee wouldn’t deny your request?”

Byron knew there was no certainty as to that at all. The Director of Xenobiology lived and died by their quarterly production. Maldrax hadn’t run many bad quarters but he wasn’t sitting atop a string of extremely successful ones either. That put him in the uncertain realm of having value to the Consortium but potentially not as much as some new favorite of a board member or a pet project of the Steering Committee. 

Contrary to popular belief, the Consortium didn’t terminate all of the ex-employees with extreme prejudice. Among the lower work forces, the cost of an execution far exceeded the workers wages, so it was much simpler just to return them to the general workforce of whatever planet they happened to be stationed on. 

In the case of decommissioning a Director however, the firing process usually began with the incineration of the Director’s body. Director’s knew too much about the Consortium and had access to too many resources to take any chances with an action they might respond to in a hostile fashion.

“Of course they’re going to side with me,” Maldrax said. “The problem is the timing.”

“Timing? Are you up against a deadline already?” Byron asked.

Maldrax wasn’t up against a deadline. He was up against several, a few of which Byron had ensured would motivate him to act decisively and with haste.

“It’s not the deadline’s I’m worried about,” Maldrax said. “It’s the damn creature.”

“What’s wrong with the creature?” Byron asked. “It hasn’t been captured yet and the natives are clearly incapable of dealing with it.”

“It’s withdrawing!” Maldrax said. 

“I’m sorry, it’s doing what?” Byron asked, his disaffected demeanor slipping as one of his plans began to spiral in an unexpected direction.

“The creature. It’s withdrawing. It’s pulling into itself and its taken our corrupted forces with it.”

“That’s not typical behavior,” Byron said, puzzling over what it could mean.

Had Azma managed to rig up some deterrent to its expansion with the scraps she gathered from the moonlet it was on? Had the containment units failing been part of her plan?

Byron shook his head, both of those thoughts were ridiculous. 

But then why had Azma put herself into the most dangerous position imaginable?

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 11


It was a perfect encapsulation of Tessa’s life. She’d been given a literal ‘key to the kingdom’. And it was broken.

“If we’re going to take him out of her we should be doing it now,” Lisa said, tugging at Tessa’s sleeve.

Tessa knew she was right. Broken though he was, David Kralt could still be useful to them.

It just galled her to save him them.

In her world, he was fantastically wealthy. At least by game developer standards. He’d traded on the fame won through releasing “Crypts of Blood”, one of the early 3d fantasy dungeon crawlers. Later accusations had claimed that he’d stolen most of the source code and art assets from two (former) friends, but it had taken long enough for those to surface that Kralt had already made his millions, sold his personal tabletop campaign for millions more, been brand-associated with the “smash hit MMO” [Broken Horizons] and taken up the sort of lifestyle generally reserved for moderately successful rock stars. 

Never in all that time had he faced any consequences for his actions, and once again he was going to get to skate away without having to exert any effort or change his behavior at all.

“Fine,” Tessa said at last. “He’s going in the bag though.”

For a crucial moment, Kralt didn’t seem to understand what she meant. That worked out well. Tessa was able to scoop him up from his chair a moment before it crumbled into motes of light without any resistance. 

He had a moment to squeak in protest as she shoved the blue slime drop he called a body into her [inventory] pack.

“I don’t think there’s any air in there,” Aptomos said, bouncing his green slime drop body towards the door.

“Do slimes need air?” Tessa asked.

“No,” Aptomos said. “Just the occasional bit of water and a sufficient level of ambient magic.”

“Then he’s staying there for now,” Tessa said. “Are you the one that led us in there?”

She turned to look at the room after they stepped through portal door. The last pieces of the illusion tumbled away leaving only an emptiness beyond the darkest night.

Something told her to close the portal door and she did not question or argue with that impulse.

“I am,” Aptomos said. “I thought it was important that the All Seer not stay hidden with the state of the two worlds hanging in the balance still.

“Wait, you know about Earth too?” Lisa asked, kneeling down to be on a more even level with Aptomos. 

Tessa followed her lead by taking a seat on the floor. They needed to keep moving, but before they did that they needed to decide if they wanted Aptomos to come with them or not.

“I do,” Aptomos said. “I’m from there.”

“How is that possible?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah. Slime’s aren’t a playable race,” Tessa said, shifting her vision slightly out of focus and finding the shadow of a man suffusing the green slime drop’s body, must like Kralt’s human form had.

“I wasn’t a player,” Aptomos said. “Or, sadly, I wasn’t logged in on my player account when [World Shift] went live.”

“Not a player? Then you were a [Game Master]?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah. ‘Were’ being the operative term there unfortunately,” Aptomos said.

“Oh wow! BT said something about that didn’t she?” Tessa asked and wracked her memory.

Their arrival to the [Broken Kingdoms] had been only a day ago, if Tessa’s sense of time wasn’t totally scrambled, but it felt like years had passed. 

“She said she couldn’t do things like teleport us around because they’d lost one of her coworkers when he tried to use his GM powers,” Lisa said. 

“That would be me,” Aptomos said. “I’m glad Marcus made them stop using system command too. Uh, Marcus is our supervisor.”

“I know,” Tess said. “We talked to him too. How did you wind up here though? As a slime?”

“And what’s your real name? It feels weird calling you a slime name,” Lisa said.

“I’m Ashad Khan. You can call me Aptomos if you like though. It’s the name of my favorite character in my friend’s home brew D&D game. He’s a sorcerer who can polymorph at will, and he’s always going around in these cute forms. And you’re not interested in hearing about my character. Right. Where were we?”

Tessa was a bit curious about the tabletop version of Aptomos, but she had to admit it probably wasn’t the right time for that sort of thing.

“What happened after you vanished from the call center?” she asked.

“Oh, right. I wound up here, except I was kind of burning up,” Aptomos said. “I had this super evolved view of what was going on. Like I could see everything, but it was so much more than my brain could handle.”

“I think I can guess what that was like,” Tessa said.

“Also I didn’t have a body and that felt really, really weird,” Ashad sad. “It was like I was omniscient and that omniscience was doing nothing but telling me I was in danger from everywhere and everything.”

“So you turned into a slime?” Lisa asked.

“It was what was available,” Ashrad said, ripples in his tear drop body suggesting a shrug. “I needed something small, so I could get away from the light that was tearing me apart, and this was tiny enough that when I squeezed in here I left all the rest of that stuff behind.”

“What happened to it? Do you know?” Tessa asked.

“I don’t know,” Ashad said. “That was all too big to be a part of this world. I think I left it somewhere else, but I don’t think that ‘somewhere’ is anywhere in the [High Beyond] or even in the [Fallen Kingdoms] in general.”

“Ah well, probably better that I not have the temptation to pick up another god soul again,” Tessa said.

“A what?” Ashad asked.

“This world seems to map GM powers to fragments of deities,” Tessa said. “BT, or Hailey is probably how you knew her, she came here too. She was in her normal regular character but she had her GM powers stuck to her and I kind of ripped them out. Since they were slowly killing her. The god soul was pretty fun to use, except for the part where it was killing me too.”

“How did you do that?” Ashad asked. “You look like you’re just a normal human. In fact how do you look like a normal person? You’re not even close to one of the game models. Are you human?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore,” Tessa said, looking at her left hand and noticing it shaking more than fatigue and stress could account for.


It should have been disturbing to be spending time with a talking skeleton. If nothing else the question of how something without lungs, an esophagus, a tongue or lips was making sound in the first place upset Yawlorna’s inner researcher. It could can been a speaker she admitted. Placing a small one in the skull, maybe on the rough of the mouth, would have been simple enough.

Except she knew that wasn’t how Mr. Pendant was speaking. He didn’t need any of the organs associated with speech any more than he needed muscles to move or connective tissue to keep from falling apart. 

Yawlorna was tempted to ask him for some of that magic. A nice spell to help her stop falling apart sounded wonderful.

“Your people seem to be mingling successfully with the townsfolks,” Pendant said, offering Yawlorna a tin cup filled with some pungent liquid.

Yawlorna half suspected the cup was poison. The scent suggested it strongly. 

She took it and took a short pull. 

She wasn’t immune to poison, but with how her day was going a little chemical debilitation didn’t seem that undesirable.

“We’re explorers,” she said, fighting back a cough at the fiery burn which followed the drink’s passing. “Meeting new people is what my crew signed up for. A quarter of them have their final thesis papers dependent on it.”

“I’m guessing those folks weren’t happy to be holed up in the lower levels where you’d setup your base?” Pendant asked.

“Not at first,” Yawlorna said. “Then we met some of the things that live here.”

“Lost a few of them?” Pendant asked. There was no accusation in his voice. If anything Yawlorna felt like he was speaking from a shared experience.

“More than few,” Yawlorna said. “Too many.”

Pendant offered her a refill with a compassionate nod. Yawlorna took it.

“Folks here haven’t had your experience,” he said, “but they’ve had their own losses. I think it’s good you’re here.”

“So that we can all fight and die together?” Yawlorna asked. She knew what they were faced with in terms of the Consortium’s forces. Their encounter with Kremmer’s Razors had shown her just how overmatched they were by the Consortium. She couldn’t imagine facing foes like that even if everyone in the cavern around them were trained combatants, and she knew that less than a quarter of them were.

“No, no. If it comes to fighting, we’re probably doing something wrong,” Pendant said. “It’s good to have you here for a much more important reason; you’re different.”

Yawlorna laughed.

“Do you think anyone’s noticed?” she asked, her voice all liquid sarcasm.

Yawlorna and her people looked nothing like the [Humans], [Elves], [Void Goblins], and [Artifax] who made up the prior population of the [Last Refuge]. To her, they looked like a freakish amalgamation of nightmares, twisted, stunted, proto-people. 

To them, she looked like a [Demon]. Horns. Crimson skin. Tails. She was a monster, something the alien world she was on apparently recognized? Otherwise it wouldn’t have a preset classification for her. Or an automatic marking as an enemy of people she never met. 

“I think you being different is reminding the people of how that’s not a bad thing,” Pendant said. “When you walked in here more than a few of them made themselves real small. Some even went for their weapons. Nobody drew though and do you know why?”

“Because they’re afraid we’d eat them if they tried?” Yawlorna asked.

“They’re afraid they’re going to be eaten, but not by you,” Pendant said. “When they looked at you what they saw was ‘hey, that’s not one of those Consortium troops that destroyed our town, or the [Disjoined] people who turned it into a giant monster’. To them, you looked like someone scary and, right now, they’re all wishing there’d be someone nice and scary on their side.”

“I don’t see that going well for us long term,” Yawlorna said. “Once they get done being scared of the Consortium, assuming any of us survive, my people will be next on the bonfire.”

“That’s one future,” Pendant said. “A lot of other bad ones just like it too.”

“Not much to look forward to then,” Yawlorna said.

“Maybe not,” Pendant said. “Which means its up to us.”

“What’s up to us?” Yawlorna asked, wondering if the surprisingly tasty beverage Pendant was sharing with her was clouding her thinking. It barely burned at all anymore when it went down. Was that a good sign?

“If you don’t like the future that’s setup for you, then you make your own instead,” Pendant said.

“I don’t think it’s that easy,” Yawlorna said. She wasn’t drunk. That bothered her. Being drunk would have been nice. Or miserable really, but at least she could have blamed it on the alcohol. This? This was something else. This was…healthy?

“Oh it’s the hardest thing in the world,” Pendant said. “Plenty of chances to fail. You’re basically guaranteed to fall short of what you really want even if you do succeed on some level.”

“This isn’t much of a pep talk,” Yawlorna said.

“You don’t need a pep talk,” Pendant said. “You just need what they needed.”

“What’s that?” Yawlorna asked.

“To know you’re not in this alone.”

Broken Horizons – Vol 7, Ch 10


The last several hours had given Glimmerglass a new definition for ‘being of two minds’ about something. She hadn’t expected to find that she missed it though.

“So you’re three people in one?” Melissa asked, speaking on a new chat channel Starchild had setup for them. “That’s neat, I’ve only run into people who were sharing a body with their character so far.”

“At the moment it seems like I’m split between two bodies,” Glimmerglass said. “Or maybe more?”

“Three’s not enough?” Starchild asked.

“Tessa played other characters too,” Glimmerglass said. “If she and I are the same person, then the others might be too?”

“Have you tried reaching out to them?” Melissa asked. 

Glimmerglass couldn’t hear any of the background noise swirling around Melissa, but the slight pauses in her mental voice spoke volumes. As Feral Fang, Melissa was standing guard over one of the groups of people whose town hadn’t been defensible at all. Unfortunately their secure stronghold was also in the path one of the Consortium’s advancing forces. They were safe for the moment but since that moment wouldn’t last long, the townsfolk were packing up their supplies for another trek deeper into the forest and even more remote location.

“I haven’t had any luck, but I don’t know if that means they don’t exist, or if they’re just in some warded area. Or just not accepting random communication prompts from someone they’ve never met,” Glimmerglass said. “I wish I could reach one of them though. I could send them your way.”

“We would not turn down the helping hands,” Melissa said. “[High Command] sent six of us to watch over an entire town’s worth of people.”

“Do you need reinforcements?” Glimmerglass, wheels starting to turn in her head.

“Hopefully not,” Melissa said. “We’re moving out now to stay well ahead of the Consortium’s troops. As long as that works and we don’t have to tangle with them, things should be fine.”

“And if they catch up to you?” Glimmerglass asked. “Is there a contingency plan to cover that?”

“Yeah, we fight,” Melissa said.

“An army?”

“It’s not a big one,” Melissa said.

“What’s your gear level like?” Glimmerglass asked. “Is your guild raiding the [Chronomantic Vault]?”

Melissa laughed.

“Not even close,” she said. “My best stuff is [Astral Purple] loot I got off the auction house.”

“Off the…? You decked yourself out in the second highest tier raid gear by buying it?”

“Yeah, people have been buying [Sunken Titans] for some nice prices lately,” Melissa said.

“[Sunken Titans]? I thought only three people could catch those things?” Glimmerglass asked.

“There’s five of us actually, but the two you don’t hear about have been focusing on their [Cooking] skills for the last year or so,” Melissa said.

“I told you she was rich,” Pete said.

“I’m valuable,” Melissa said. “Rich means you’re hoarding your wealth. I spend mine as fast as I pull it out of the ocean.”

“What she means is that she gives away most of it,” Pete said. “Her whole guild has gear like hers.”

“That’s seriously impressive. I’ll have to introduce you to a scroll maker I know. She can do ridiculous things with the inks from the really deep sea critters,” Glimmerglass said. “Even with that though I’m not sure how well you’d do with six versus an entire Consortium army.” 

“Oh, we’ll get demolished I’m sure,” Melissa said. “All we need to do is buy the towns people time to get out of the Consortium’s scouting range and we can rejoin them when we respawn.”

“Unless they capture you,” Pete said.

“Do you think the Consortium is capable of that?” Starchild asked. “Your sister’s a lot more powerful than we are, and we know people here who have fought them and survived.”

“Their troops seem to vary a lot in power,” Glimmerglass said. “The ones we fought in [Doom Crag] were more than a match for several full teams of raid geared adventurers.”

“Were any of your caught?” Melissa asked.

“No. That was part of the initial assault. The Consortium only seemed to switch to capturing us after the counter attack on their battle ships. My team came very close to being captured there though.”

“Any tips for staying free?” Melissa asked.

“Don’t fight them if you don’t have to,” Glimmerglass said. “If you do though, try to hit them with things they won’t expect. They seem to follow some pretty solid plans and they have fantastic discipline, but they’re not all that quick to respond to new situations.”

“So I should hit them with a [Sunken Titan] then? Got it,”: Melissa said.

“Aren’t those things like three hundred feet long? How would you even lift it?” Pete asked.

“I can reel it in, you know lift it up several thousand feet from the crushing depths of the ocean , why would lifting it on land be hard?” Melissa said.

“Wait, how strong are you now?” Pete asked.

“As strong as I’ve ever been,” Melissa said. “Well, as strong as I’ve been as Feral Fang, or did you miss the part when I can punch through solid stone?”

“I believe I mentioned that she’s a lot more powerful than we are,” Starchild said. “Or were you not thinking about the ramifications of the stories you used to describe her?”

“Yeah, but there’s ‘stronger’ and then there’s ‘puts Thor to shame by casually hucking around world serpents’. I mean this is my little sister!” Pete’s objections were voiced with a note of humor coloring each word, but that drained away when he continued. “I supposed to worry about her, you know.”

“I mean, technically, I’m the older one now,” Melissa said in a gently teasing tone. “Feral Fang’s been around a whole lot longer than any of your alts after all. No offense Starchild.”

“None taken,” Starchild said.

“I might be able to do something to alleviate your worries too,” Glimmerglass said.

“What’s that?” Pete asked.

“Melissa allow me to introduce a friend of mine,” Glimmerglass said as she added a new name to the chat channel. “Cambrell, Melissa’s part of a team who might need some rapid backup depending on where the Consortium’s forces in the region advance next. They’re currently hidden in the [Shadow Creep Woods].”

“Nice to meet you Melissa,” Cambrell said. “I’m guessing the [Assassin’s Guild] hasn’t stopped by to say hi yet?”

“There’s an [Assassin’s Guild] here?” Melissa asked.

“Yep. Goblin only. I don’t know where [High Command] is sending you but I can guarantee my people can get you to a better one.”


Seeing an enemy descend into chaos sounded like a wonderful thing to Grace but her memories as Kamie Anne Do assured her that the more chaos on the battlefield the more dangerous it was.

“What happened to those guys?” Grail Force asked, retreating up to the ledge of overlooking the boss room which had turned from a furious battle between Kamie’s team and a squad fo Consortium soldiers to an even bloodier ball of carnage where the Consortium soldier’s turned on each other. 

“They glitched or something,” Kamie said, ducking an errant plasma bolt.

“That’s good right?” Battler X asked.

“Do you think a glitch is really going to work out in favor?” Grail asked.

“Fair point,” Battler X said with a shrug. “So do we wait for them to finish each other off and mop up the survivors or do we jump in and kill stealth the xps from all of them?”

Kamie watched the skirmish play out for another moment. The two side were locked in body to body combat. No cover. No tactics. Just a bunch of fighters trying to put each other down on the floor and then kick their opponents to death.

Unfortunately, the wrong side seemed to be winning.

“You guys are going to hate this idea,” Kamie said, hating it herself, but knowing that it was the right one.

At least for certain boneheaded values of ‘right’.

“We’re going to save the ones that didn’t get [Disjoined], aren’t we?” Battler X asked the question as though the answer were inevitable, which, in a sense, it kind of was since Kamie was already picking out her target.

“Yep,” she said. “Just remember, they’ll still be enemies after this.”

“Why save them then?” Grail Force asked.

“Cause maybe they’ll be enemies we can talk to,” Kamie said and used [Seven Step Stride] to flash into the middle of the melee.

In tactical terms, it was the perfect fight for her. A nice crowded area with plenty of targets and her primary foe were berserkers who had strength and speed but precious little intelligence in how they used them.

Kamie was more than happy to demonstrate to the [Disjoined Consortium Soldiers] what a bad idea that combination of traits was. 

Their speed was a liability when it meant they punched and grabbed into traps Kamie had setup while she was watching them. 

One struck out and found his arm spun three hundred and sixty degrees in its socket, shredding every bit of connective tissue which allowed it to work.

Another had a knife it tried to bury in her. A simple redirect put through the head of the [Disjoined] beside it.

Battler X joined her and the two began to make some space for the remaining, non-corrupted Consortium soldiers to breath. 

So, of course, one of them tried to shoot Kamie in the head.

They weren’t friends, Kamie knew that, and because she knew that she was ready for the attempt the Consortium soldier made, disarming him before he could bring the plasma rifle to bear and adding a simple “No, we’re not fighting,” which was probably terribly confusing to the soldier.

Kamie didn’t let herself lose track of the soldier she disarmed but she did focus on defending against the three [Disjoined] who were trying to tear her to pieces.

Three on one wasn’t great odds for a [Monk], at least not three foes roughly as strong as she was. Grace wasn’t worried though. Kamie knew the odds were bad, but Grace knew she had friends she could count on, even if they’d only known each other for a day or so.

Dying together a lot forged a pretty strong bond it turned out.

“Pick on someone my size,” Buzz Fightyear said as he blocked a taloned strike from a [Disjoined] [Clothwork soldier] who hadn’t had claws a moment earlier.

“They’re morphing!” Kamie shouted out the warning loud enough for everyone to hear, though she wasn’t certain the Consortium soldiers would understand her. 

“It’s [Devolution]!” one of them shouted back. “Don’t let them touch you!”

Kamie couldn’t be sure the Consortium soldier was talking to her, but she took their advice nonetheless.

Something moved inside the [Clothwork soldier] in front of her and she had to check her next punch as spikes of angry static ripped through the thing’s skin.

“These things don’t want to die,” Battle X said.

Kamie turned to see two of the [Disjoined] rise from the floor, moving as though the ties between their body and limbs were severed and external strings were compelling their motions.

“Don’t want to,” Kamie said and vaulted onto one of the creature’s shoulders. Changing her grip she grabbed either side of its head and spun, landing with the the stuffed noggin no longer attached its doll like body, which in turn collapsed to the floor. “Still can though.”

“Troop, [Command Decision],” one of the Consortium soldiers called out. “Cease hostilities with the natives. They are now designated [Allied Units].”

That had an effect on both the [Disjoined] and regular Consortium forces, the former of which began screaming something incomprehensible at Kamie and her crew while the latter had the decency to turn the weapons to face the [Disjoined] rather than her.

“They’re trying to convert the natives!” the soldier Kamie had saved called out.

“Yeah, but it’s not working!” the leader shouted back over the din of the screaming. “They must be immune somehow.”

Kamie throat punched one of the [Disjoined] to shut it up, which had the effect of startling the rest into silence too.

Apparently people being able to resist, or just ignore, it’s mental control wasn’t something the [Formless Hunger] was used to dealing with. 

Kamie was happy that it’s day was getting worse for it. 

That it was going to react poorly to its setbacks was a given, but it was still nice to know that even indestructible, reality eating beasts couldn’t catch a break sometimes.