May I Enjoy My Life: Entry 42 (Patreon)

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I woke up and immediately vomited all over myself. I had a pounding headache and was so dizzy I couldn’t see straight. Chloroform. It’s nasty stuff, and there’s a reason we don’t use it anymore as a general anesthetic. But I guess Ursus is too backwards to use something sensible like Proporyx or Sevoryne. 

Or they just didn’t give a damn. 

I was still on the floor sicking up when someone moved my hair out of my face and tried to put me in the rescue position. 

“Let it out. Here. They left me a wet rag. I’ll wipe you off.”

I blinked through my tears, and realized it was none other than Donna Sicilia who was tending to me. I was too sick and dizzy to protest, and I let her clean me off as best she could, then help me sit up, leaning against the wall. 

We were in a small room that was obviously intended for holding prisoners. Bare metal walls, bare floor with a drain in it and rusty red stains. No guesses what that was. 

My foggy mind recalled how I’d gotten here, and I realized that Donna Scicila and I had been kidnapped by an Emperor’s Blade. I immediately felt horrified, and looked around frantically, which made me even dizzier. “Are…are we in Ursus?!”

“I do not know. I do not think so, we cannot have been out for much longer than a day or two, I think,” Donna Sicilia told me. “I have been awake about twenty minutes. A soldier in an Ursus uniform gave me the rag and a doctor checked me, but he spoke Siracusian with no accent I could hear.”

“Great,” I moaned. Made sense that the Donna was awake before me: more bodyweight, even if she was substantially older than I was. 

“It is not my first time being drugged,” the Donna said, shrugging slightly. “But this is rather embarrassing.”

“What about James? Lisa? Have you seen them?” I demanded. 

The Donna shock her head. “No, but I have seen nothing but this cell. I do not see how they were not taken as well. Three Black Demons. It would have taken a dozen Bocca al Lupo to stand up to one. But three? The Tsar wants Dr. McCoy and you very badly. By last reliable count, there were forty-seven of them that were active. This is a rather substantial amount of Ursus’ forces.” 

Three. Three Blades. We had barely escaped from one with the help of a Beast Lord and Penguin Logistics, and then, we had very definitely escaped, not defeated them. But three? That would take all of Rhodes Island’s elite operators to stand against. 

I felt like breaking down and crying, but I refused to just give up. So instead, I got to my shaky legs, and tried to take stock of the situation.

Which was, of course, that I was locked in a torture chamber with a geriatric lupo who was nonetheless probably extremely dangerous even unarmed, and I had no way out aside from relying on the most ruthless woman in Siracusa. 

“Any plans for getting out of this?” I said, turning to Donna Sicilia, who had stood as well. 

“Pray and make your peace with the Law. You, they might decide they need, if for no other reason than threatening you is a good way to get Dr. McCoy to cooperate. You two are lovers, yes?” Donna asked.

I swallowed, but nodded. “Yes. We…he was going to propose to me…”

“Good for you. They might let you live. I may have some value as a political prisoner, but I doubt it. They will have an Ursus puppet ready to put into my place. I maintained control only through a delicate system of loyalties and balances, and if that has been disrupted as I feared my illness would do, then all is doomed,” the Donna said grimly. 

I swallowed. That was something James hadn’t understood. If it had gotten out that Donna Sicilia was an Infected…she would have been removed from power immediately. Probably fatally. The Infected are to be reviled, mistrusted, and loathed. At best, you may be pitied. More likely, you will be exiled. 

And, well, that’s exactly what happened. I half wondered how she’d been infected. Ground originium dust in her food? An originium needle on her chair? Or, just bad luck. An industrial accident at the wrong place or time, or getting caught in a Catastrophe, or any number of things could lead to infection. I doubted it had been happenstance: someone in Donna Cecilia’s position was far more likely to have been the victim of an attack. 

There was one thing in the room, and I quickly found it. A camera, set up in the corner of the ceiling. I turned and faced it, walking to the center so my face was clearly visible. “Well? I’m awake! What do you want? Where is James!? If you hurt a single hair on his head-” I cut myself off, already feeling impotent rage and tears well up within me. I couldn’t protect James. He couldn’t protect me either, not from this. I still wanted him here, to know he was, well, not safe, but not dead. 

My plea produced no results for several long minutes, and I paced back and forth in the small chamber, hands behind my back, tail twitching, as Donna Sicilia stood quietly, hands clasped before her, facing death with dignity, at least. 

At last, the door hissed open, and an Ursus soldier stepped in with a doctor. I didn’t recognize them, but they spoke excellent Siracusian. They mostly just examined me, determined I wasn’t too sick, and then left again. 

“Where is James?” I demanded. “Where are we?! What are you going to do to us?!”

“You are alive for now, Signorina. That is the best that can be said,” the doctor said cryptically, then they just left. 

I stalked the chamber for a bit, mind racing. I hoped James thought to squawk code Skeletal Wings. I wasn’t sure what assets we had in Siracusa. There were some operators here, but even with all of them assembled, I doubted it would be enough to stand up to three Blades. 

At last, the door opened again. I was slumped on the ground, and hastily scrambled up, as two more Ursus officers entered. This time, I was roughly collared by them. Donna Siracusa faced them coldly, but they just shoved her aside. It was darkly hilarious that the most powerful woman in Siracusa was being ignored by these thugs, but that was a boost to my ego I could have lived very well without. 

“I guess it takes two big strong ursus to handle one small vulpo woman?” I spat, making sure to use their own language so they could understand me. I didn’t even get the flick of an ear or a shift of their eyes, and I was taken to a larger interrogation room with concrete floors and harsh lights. There were various accouterments in there: a car battery, wires, knives, drills, hammers. There was a chair with straps on it that made my knees go weak, but what really terrified me was the thing standing behind the table, arms folded behind its back, black smoke coiling around it and obscuring the figure. 

Dr. Sussurro. Please. Have a seat, the Blade said, and I was shoved into a chair. 

I noted a bandage on its side, and I looked back up at it, for a terrible moment thinking I was to treat whatever it was. I had only heard rumors, but supposedly the rituals used to create Blades were some of the most vile and profane known. I’d even heard they were forcibly bonded with one of the northern demons, but that had to be hearsay. 

We came to this city with three Blades, and one hundred and fifty of the Tsars finest men. Now, I am the only Blade left, and one hundred elites. I knew you Rhodes Islanders were dangerous, but you have exceeded my expectations. 

Three?! Three Blades!? But, two dead? How!? What had wounded this one? Emperor? The Signori dei Lupi? Ingrid and Rosmontis? I had no idea. 

“Where is James?” I demanded. 

The so-called Savior will be joining us shortly. For now, it is you I wish to interview. I want to see some of those miracle arts you are reportedly capable of using now. 

I felt sick, but folded my arms over my chest and stuck my chin up. “I refuse to do anything unless I know James is safe.”

I see. Well then. Perhaps some persuasion is in order, then. 

The Blade raised a hand, and the door behind us opened. A stoic-looking lupo man was hauled into the room. He was older, but quite handsome, or at least he would have been if it wasn’t for his blood-matted hair and cracked lips. 

Do you know this man? The Blade asked me.

“Whatever this figlio di puttana wants, don’t give it to him,” the man rasped, and was repaid for his words by a punch to the gut by one of the Ursus soldiers holding his arms behind his back and driving him to his knees. 

“I recognize him,” I admitted. Lisa had shown me his picture before, and so had Ingrid. “He is Fabrizio Venezia. Don of Venezia Famiglia.”

Former Don. He has… relinquished the position. 

“Just because my bastardo of a son cut a deal with you monsters doesn’t mean-” Fabrizio was clubbed over the head with the butt of a crossbow, and he groaned, going limp in the soldiers arms. 

I felt my heart lurch. A murderous son of a bitch Fabrizio might be, but he was still Lisa’s nonno and Ingrid’s father. “What do you want of me?”

Heal him, the Blade commanded. 

“And if I refuse?”

The Blade nodded to the soldiers. Stab him in the gut. A lethal wound, but one that will kill but slowly. 

Fabrizio tried to struggle, but one soldier drew his sword, and speared the old Don through his abdomen and out his back. Then the two soldiers threw him on the table, where he cried out, and a large puddle of blood began to leak out of him. 

“An arts wand!” I screamed, already at his side and taking off my stained shirt to push into the wound. 

One was put into my hands, and I immediately began to cast my healing arts, muttering a prayer as I always did to help me focus. 

That is not what I meant. Use the proper arts. Or I will simply kill him. There are plenty of servants, even a few children in this house. I will mutilate each and every one of them until you consent to heal one with these new arts, the Blade growled, stepping up to the table to loom over me.

I glared up at him, tears flooding down my cheeks. 

“Don’t do it, let me die,” Fabrizio gasped, but I ignored the old idioto. 

“I can’t use them! I, I’m no longer an infected! I, I need originium! Pure! You have to infect me!” I demanded. 

The Blade blade regarded me for a long moment, but despite my terror, I didn’t break my gaze, even as my hands treated Fabrizio’s wound as best I could. 

Lieutenant. Do you have weapons-grade originium? The Blade finally said. 

“Here, sir,” one of my captors said, and produced a shard of originiuim. 

I snatched it out of their hands, and before I could think too much on it, I plunged it into my thigh. I cried out in pain, then hastily bandaged it. Veins of black began to spread, and I knew I was Infected again, though how badly, I didn’t know. It was a lot, at least 400g of originium, so probably very, but time enough for that later. I had a life to save.

I turned back, and desperately tried to tap into that song. I could feel it again, feel that power with in me. But the words…the words would not come to my mind.

I screamed in frustration and used my normal healing arts on Fabrizio, but the Blade backhanded my wand out of my hands and sent me spinning to the ground. 

Fetch one of the servants. A young one. A child if you can. Bring them here, and shoot them. Fetch several. We will kill them until we achieve the results I desire.

“I, I need the right equipment,” I babbled desperately, getting to my knees as I clutched the side of my head, which was now bleeding. “We, we had some on the landship. If you can fetch it-”

The sealed crate? The Blade loomed over me, and black smoke curled around me, making me choke and cough. You lie. 

“It, it had a device within,” I said, playing for time. I had no idea what was in that crate. “If I had it, I could-”

The crate contains nothing but an infected young woman. How would that assist you? The Blade snarled. 

I blinked at him. What? “You…you have the crate?”

Yes. We cannot open the medical device. I could force it, but we were going to crack it. Do you have the code? 

“I…” I swallowed, and hastily considered. Perhaps, maybe… “Try code Skeletal Wings.”

The Blade nodded to one of his men. Bring it here, with two servants. If it is incorrect, I will kill one and mortally wound the other. 

The men raced off, and I was allowed up. “Can I at least treat this man? He will surely die if I do not! Then what value is he?!”

You may. I can always stab him again, or worse. I hunger. And his blood smells sweet. As does yours.

It took long and agonizing minutes. I managed to get Fabrizio’s bleeding under control, but the old man was pale and weak from blood loss. 

“You should have let me die, little doctor,” he gasped as my weak arts finally managed to seal the hole in his back and chest shut. “My life is not worth this.”

“I swore an oath when I joined Rhodes Island, and again when I became a full doctor. I’m not going to betray it now. Now shut up and let me get these sutures in you,” I snapped at him. 

He moaned and lay back on the table in his own blood, and my hands worked desperately, perhaps futilely, to save his life. 

I don’t know how much time passed, but some sort of medical stasis tank was hauled into the room. I didn’t recognize it at all, and wondered where it had come from. There was a young woman floating in the tank, a feline, and she was infected. I was shocked when I knelt down and saw her face, however. 

It was the Director’s. She looked much, much younger, but it was unmistakable. That was Kal’tsit’s face. Was this…a clone?

Now. What will this allow you to accomplish? The Blade demanded. 

“She…she’s an artificial life form, based on the Director’s DNA,” I lied. Or at least, I thought I did. “She can use the arts. I can’t. What I did was a one-time event, it seems, and I don’t have the right drugs. But perhaps with her, I can, or she can, I don’t know. Let me activate it,” I pleaded. 

The Blade gestured, and I was allowed to use the access panel. I punched in SKELETAL WINGS. 

There was a hiss, and within the tank, the girl’s eyes snapped open. She had been curled up in the fetal position, floating with an oxygen mask over her face. But now her eyes were open, and they glowed with an ominous green light in the clear fluid. 

Then, four long spikes shot out of her back, and the tank exploded. 

The Blade stepped back, almost in what I would call a panic, drawing its weapon as black fog flooded the room and obscured my vision. MONSTER! I WILL NOT LOSE TO YOU-

There was a demonic screech, and the two soldiers screamed as dark pinchers shot out and speared them to the ground. The Blade roared and slashed, but another black pincher blocked the strike.

I remember you. Pursuer, a horrifying voice hissed, and the outline of a feline woman with long fangs bared was highlighted a demonic green in the smoke. 

You. Mon3tr! Where is the witch!? The Blade shouted, and it sounded…terrified. It was backing away, trying to get to the door, but the thing from the tank interposed itself.

Be glad, Demon. My mother is not present. But I am more than enough to slay you.

I had hauled Fabrizio off the table, desperately healing him as the Blade fought whatever the hell had been in that tank. Well, fought is a strong word. The Blade desperately tried to fend off the creature, and it was systematically taken apart, before the thing cut off the Blade’s right arm, then hauled its main body close, and opened its mouth wide. A massive green laser beam emitted from the thing's mouth as it shrieked and burned a hole straight through the Blade. 

Then the Black Demon slumped over, and the smoke faded. The pinchers retracted into the woman’s body, and she stood there, barefoot. Then she crouched down and peered under the table, and grinned at me. “Dr. Sussurro! Are you OK? Quick, come out from under the table! Where is Dr. McCoy? Is he OK too?”

Hesitantly, I let the woman help me out from under the table, along with Fabrizio. The woman just grinned at us, even though she was wearing only her birthday suit. “Wow, you’re a lot taller than I remember, Dr. Sussurro! Did you get a growth spurt?”

I blinked in shock. “That…that might be the only time in my entire life someone has said that to me.”

“Hmmm,” the woman measured her head over mine, though she was about 160cm and overtopped me by quite a bit. “Well, I’m still bigger than you! Hey, where’s Dr. McCoy? I’m supposed to keep both of you safe. That was the last thing my mom said to me before…wait. Where is my mom?”

“Ah, young lady, before we finish this conversation, perhaps you could…” Fabrizio coughed, averting his eyes. I’d managed to get him mostly patched up. He wasn’t in danger of dying, but he still needed a hospital. 

“Huh?” The woman looked down at herself, then went bright red and let out a horrified shriek. Those pincers erupted from her back again and wrapped themselves about her. “Don’t look, I’m naked! Oh my gosh, I’ve been naked my entire life! Why did no one tell me before!?” 

That was when half a dozen Ursus guards kicked the door open. The woman exploded into action with a snarl, apparently forgetting she was naked as she ripped all six of them limb from limb in a matter of seconds, sending sprays of blood through the air. Using those monstrous pinchers, she expertly cut the armor off one of the guards, then draped it about herself, though it was much too big for her. “There! Now I’m not so naked! Seriously, Dr. Sussurro, why did you not tell me I was naked before back on the Landship!?”

“Uh, I don’t recall ever meeting you before now, Signorina…?” I said, feeling rather perplexed. 

“Huh? Oh, I guess I do look a bit different. It’s me! Mon3tr!” the woman said brightly, and grinned at me. 

I blinked at her, recalling the terrible black insect-like demon that the Director could summon at a word. “You…you’re the Director’s pet demon?”

That made the woman pout. She looked…very young. Younger than me, really. “I’m not a demon. I hate when people call me that! Or, well, I guess I do now. I don’t remember caring before, sort of like I didn’t care that I was naked…but I really care now! Huh. That’s weird. Anyway, let's go find Dr. McCoy!”

Then she skipped down the blood-soaked hallway, humming to herself. I’m serious. It was absolutely surreal. 

“Did I die and this is just a hallucination?” Fabrizio asked me quietly. 

“If you did, so did I. But…she does look like a young Director Kal’tsit,” I whispered back. “And let’s not wait around to find out if there really are two more Blades.”

And we hurried down the hall after…well. A Mon3tr. 

“Ah, Mon3tr!” I said, jogging to catch up to her. “We need to rescue Signora Sicilia! She is imprisoned here, somewhere.”

“Signora Sicilia…hmm, ah! I have a record of her in my database,” Mon3tr said, nodding to me. “Yes, she’s classified as Mission Critical. OK, let’s go find her!” 

A few poor bastards tried to ambush us as we searched the underground complex. Well, I’m not sure if they ambushed us, or were just unfortunate enough to stumble into us.

“Ruin and restore!” Mon3tr cried when four enormous Ursus guards in heavy armor rounded a corner. They fired off crossbolts and arts at Mon3tr. She ripped her makeshift clothing to ribbons as her giant black demon arms unfurled. I think the Ursus had about enough time to soil themselves. Then they died.

“Oh!” Mon3tr said, looking around at the dismembered bodies with a faint blush on her cheeks. She looked at me and suddenly bowed. “Sorry! I used too much force…Darn. Now I’m naked again…”

“Here,” Fabrizio said, and took off his shirt and showing the tender pink scar where I’d healed him. “You need it more than I do.”

“Thanks, Mister!” Mon3tr said happily, and draped the much too large shirt about herself, then buttoned it up with her pinchers. It was…a bit disturbing, actually.

“Hmm, where to look…well, I guess I just start opening doors?” Mon3tr mused, and proceeded to simply rip the doors off their hinges. She didn’t even need the pinchers; her bare hands were apparently as strong as Mudrock's or Anthony’s.  Maybe stronger. 

Then a group of Venezia thugs rounded the corner. They took one look at what appeared to be two tiny little women and their former boss, and drew weapons. 

“I’d suggest surrendering,” Mon3tr said as she unfolded her pinchers, using two of them like legs to lift herself up in the air. 

“You boys might want to run,” Fabrizio chuckled as the Mon3tr stabbed her two forelimbs into the ground, shattering concrete and sending out sprays of little chunks. “She just finished skinning a Black Demon alive.”

Two of the thugs had brains and threw down their weapons and raised their hands. A third just turned tail and ran. The fourth shot Mon3tr with a gun. She fired off a laser from her mouth that burned his entire upper torso away, his smoking legs and guts spilling out over the floor. 

“I did warn you,” Mon3tr commented, wiping her mouth with her shirt's oversized sleeve. “Blerg. That doesn’t taste very good.”

The rest of the thugs had run away screaming bloody murder, which I don’t blame them for even slightly. 

After Mon3tr ripped open another dozen or so doors, we found Signora Sicilia. Her eyes widened slightly when a slender little feline-looking girl ripped her door off and tossed it casually behind her into the hallway, but she slowly rose from where she’d been sitting on the floor. 

“Hi! We’re here to rescue you!” Mon3tr said cheerfully. “Please do not resist.”

“I had not intended to,” the Donna said, stepping out of her cell as though alighting from a limo. She eyed Fabrizio. “Well. And what to do with you, Fabrizio Venezia?” 

“Apologies, Signora,” Fabrizio said, getting down on one knee and taking the Signora’s hand as if to kiss her ring, which had been removed. “It seems my son is in need of discipline.”

“It seems my house needs cleaning as well. The Ursus should not have been able to gain such a hold with support from one Famiglia. And, it seems, my secret is out,” the Donna said, grimacing slightly and motioning for Fabrizio to rise.

Fabrizio sighed as he stood. “Ah, yes. Antonio informed all of Grey Hall you were to receive treatment for Oripathy. I protested and was imprisoned by my own son. I cannot believe that my Antonio…” his voice trailed off into a pained groan, and I saw real tears in Fabrizio’s eyes. It seemed his affection for his adopted son was quite real. 

“Yes. We will see what can be salvaged of the situation,” the Signora said, turning to us. “Well, Dr. Sussurro, it seems I owe Rhodes Island an even greater debt. No matter what happens, I will not forget this. The Sicilia will not forget this. And Siracusa will not forget this.”

“Thank you, Donna, but I think perhaps we need to escape this situation first,” I said, turning to Fabrizio. “Do you know the way out?”

“This way,” he said, and we followed after him, Mon3tr sticking to the front. A dozen Ursus troops tried to ambush us on the way out, six coming from behind, six more from the front. Mon3tr shoved the three of us into a side room. The horrific screams of agony and bright laser beams that followed were rather educational. Signora Sicilia’s eyes grew wide when we saw Mon3tr dash past us, spider-like on her four pincer limbs, her eyes glowing green and firing a laser beam from her mouth. 

“This is…the sort of weapons Rhodes Island possesses?” the Signoria asked, her voice somewhat faint.

“She took apart a Black Demon of the North like a child plucks the wings of an insect,” Fabrizio said grimly. “I have never seen anything like it.”

A few moments later, Mon3tr stuck her head back. “Um, hey, quick question: Are any of you fireproof? From like, actual fire?”

“No, we most certainly are not!” I gasped, jumping up as I began to see gouts of acrid-smelling smoke and hearing a not-so-distant roar of flames. 

“Oh. Um, well, in that case…I think we’d better run,” Mon3tr said, and then great black claws tenderly wrapped themselves around me, Signora Sicilia, and Fabrizio Venezia. 

Then something exploded behind us, and a wave of heat washed over me. 

“OK RUNNING TIME NOW!” Mon3tr shouted and sprinted down the hallway on all fours, one pincher trailing behind her like a tail as she dashed. 

We finally made our way out into the open as more explosions sounded behind us: Whatever Mon3tr had done, the whole building was on fire. No one tried to stop us as Ursus troops and Venezia goons alike evacuated, but once we were out of the smoke and flames and on the street, I shouted, “Mon3tr! Please set us down!”

“Oh! Sorry! I tried to be gentle!” Monster said, and carefully set us on the pavement, where all four of us gasped for breath. Mon3tr actually flopped down, her claws retracting back into her, the tattered and burned shirt barely covering her modesty. 

“I…I’m not used to having lungs. Do they usually burn like this?” she panted. 

“Only when you inhale too much smoke in a building fire,” I told her.

Fabrizio suddenly stood, his bare chest glistening with sweat, and he turned to face four black vans that suddenly pulled up. Mon3tr groaned and got to her feet, and Venezia thugs poured out, crossbows raised. 

Out of the car stepped a perro man in an immaculate suit with a fangbeast fur mantle. He adjusted his glasses, which sparkled in the firelight, and frowned at us. “Father. I take it this was your doing?”

“Antonio. I should have bent you over my knee, too old for it or not,” Fabrizio growled, his hands forming into fists at his side. “I seemed to have spoiled my son-in-law overly much out of love for Bella.”

Antonio chuckled darkly, and raised a hand. “You’re a fossilized relic, old man. This is a new Siracusa. One that needs a new hand. You and the Signora…are the past. Antiquities that need to be disposed of. Keep the two Rhodes Islanders alive. Kill the…the other…”

Antonio trailed off as Mon3tr’s pinchers extended again, and she lifted herself up on all four of them, that slasher smile on her face again as her eyes glowed green. 

Antonio Venezia. Non-mission critical. Elimination authorized. Would you like to surrender? A distorted voice that sounded all too much like the Director’s when she was speaking with the voice of the Law itself demanded. 

“Don’t just stand there, SHOOT!” Antonio snarled, pointing at Mon3tr. 

“Do these idiots never learn?” I muttered as I grabbed Signora Sicilia and dove behind a dumpster. 

Then, I heard the howling of wolves, and laughter.

“HAHAHAHAHA! Trying to have a party without me?! Now, that simply isn’t fair! Come now, surely there’s enough for sharing!” 

I poked my head out in time to see Lappland Saluzzo and Celenia Texas land amidst the Venezia goons. Caught between a literal Mon3tr and two deadly wolves, the thugs didn’t seem to know what to do.

“Put your weapons down, boys, and perhaps you will yet live through the night. I can be forgiving if you act now,” Fabrizio said, folding his arms over his chest and striking an intimidating pose. 

“Oh, please don’t do that. If you do, I’ll be really bored,” Lappland crooned, tickling the chin of a spectral wolf that appeared from the smoke and fog, teeth stained red and tongue lolling. 

“One of you doesn’t get to surrender,” the voice of a demoness growled, and Antonio spun, drawing a gun as he did so. Ingrid’s blade flashed out of the shadows and struck it from his fingers, as the Lady of Scars emerged, her eyes shining with murderous intent. 

“I-Ingrid?!” Antonio gasped, his face going pale as he scrambled backwards. 

“Surprised to see me, brother?” Ingrid purred. 

“I, just, relieved! I had heard you faced an Emperor’s Blade,” Antonio stammered, and he looked around desperately as if he was hoping one would appear.

All demonic entities neutralized. Further Ursus forces detected. Should I eliminate them, Squad Leader? Mon3tr asked, still looming above the battlefield on her stilt-like limbs. Antonio let out a cry and cringed away from her, but Ingrid kicked his legs out from under him, and he went sprawling. 

I realized Squad Leader was me, so I cleared my throat. “Capture as many as surrender. Operator Texas, Lappland, assist Operator…Mon3tr…with neutralizing Ursus forces. Again, capture, not kill.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Lappland chuckled. “Well, at least taking them alive should be a bit of a challenge! Come on, boys! It seems the hunt is not over yet!” 

Texas nodded to me, and she, Lappland, and Mon3tr vanished into the smoke. I turned just in time to see Antonio raise a pleading hand towards Ingrid. “Father! Please, talk some sense into her!”

“Ingrid…” Fabrizio said, but she raised a hand, and he fell silent.

“Try to kill me? That, I can forgive. It happens sometimes between siblings in Siracusa,” Ingrid whispered, and Antonio nodded desperately. 

“Yes, you know how dynastic politics work! Please, no need to kill me, I know when I am beaten!” 

“But infect Lisa?” Ingrid whispered, kneeling to cup Antonio’s face in her gloved hand. “What was the purpose of that?”

The blood drained from Antonio’s face, and Fabrizio let out a pained cry. “Toni! Surely not!”

“I, I never…” Antonio whimpered, but his pants were suddenly stained with a dark wet patch, and I could smell ammonia.

“Do not lie to me, Antonio. Merely tell me why. Why target my daughter?” Ingrid asked, almost tenderly.

Antonio’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he swallowed. Then hatred filled his eyes. “Because you were always the favorite!” he spat. “Even when you abandoned the famiglia! It was always you, the pathetic little vulpo, that father favored! I was bigger! Stronger! A man! I stayed and worked with the famiglia! And it was you and your filthy fox daughter that Father wanted to inherit! Weaklings, both of-”

Ingrid’s blade took Antonio through the right eye and punched out the back of his skull, nailing him to the pavement. 

“It seems father was right. I am the more worthy heir,” Ingrid said, slowly standing. She turned to her father, who had tears running down his cheeks silently. He brushed past her, taking the hilt of her sword, and wrenching it free. He closed his eyes, body shaking with suppressed sobs, as he picked up the body of his dead son and embraced him. 

“I would have given you everything, my son!” he wept. “Why! Why do this!? Why harm that precious little girl!?”

“And how is Lisa any different from the hundreds of children you have murdered?” Ingrid demanded coldly. 

“Because she is FAMILY!” Fabrizio roared, turning on her as he clutched Antonio’s body to his chest. “I thought I taught you, taught both of you, that! Let the world burn, but you NEVER betray your family!” 

“You taught us to be brutal killers, Father. Nothing more,” Ingrid sniffed. “It was my husband who taught me what family is. Not you.”

“I am more than happy to recognize your claim as Donna of the Venezia,” Signora Sicilia said, coming out from behind the dumpster, hands clasped before her. “You have done us a great service this night.”

“Fuck you, you old bitch,” Ingrid hissed, and spat on the Donna’s feet. “I am taking my daughter back to Higashi and NEVER setting foot in this accursed country again!” 

“Hmm,” Signoria Sicilia glanced down at Fabrizio, who still clutched the body of Antonio to his chest. “You stood for me in the Grey Hall?”

“You are the one thing that kept our country together,” Fabrizio said mournfully. “Now…now I do not think anything will.”

“Have y’all motherfuckers ever considered democracy?” a familiar voice called. 

“JAMES!” I screamed and sprinted through the smoke to where he was climbing out of the back of an ambulance, supported by Exusiai and Sora, Red and Rosmontis close behind along with Emperor and Crossiant. I flung myself onto his chest, sobbing and climbing up him like a wild beckbeast to cover his face with kisses. 

“Hey, beautiful,” James said, and kissed me back tenderly. He glanced down at my leg and grimaced, where the originum shard was still embedded. “Fuck.”

“Don’t you dare try to cure me,” I wept, clinging tightly to him. 

He hesitated, then nodded. “Not right now. At least this way I can see you.”

“See me?” I hiccuped. And then I saw. His eyes. Both of them were ruined now. Black crystals obscuring both his irises, his right eye with an actual spike sticking out of it. 

“Oh, James,” I sobbed, and buried my face in his chest. 

“It’s OK, at least we’re alive,” he told me. 

I nodded, wiping snot from my nose and face. “I guess.”

“Oh, hey! There you are, Dr. McCoy! Phew, boy am I glad you’re alive! Mom would have been so mad if you died!” Mon3tr’s voice said behind me. 

“Oh hey, Mon3tr,” James said. He suddenly groaned and slapped his left hand to his forehead. “Skeletal Wings! I’m such an idiot. You were in the crate, weren’t you?”

“James, you’re a moron, you know that, right?” I laughed, wiping tears from my eyes. 

“Yeah. But at least I’m lovable,” he said, and kissed me again.

“Always,” I told him. “Come on. I’m exhausted. Let’s let this be someone else’s problem for tonight.”

“Sounds good. I’m like…20 minutes from a Solvignis crash. Why is it so hot over here all of a sudden? It’s not just you, right?”

“Um,” Mon3tr said, and blushed. “So, um, fun fact…I sort of forgot that Originium Arts tanks explode when I shoot my lasers at them…”

“That old witch has some ‘splainin’ to do,” Emperor muttered.

“HEY! What was that, short stuff?!” Mon3tr demanded, planting her hands on her hips. 

“Who you calling short, shawty? Forget it. Croissant, load these two lovebirds up and get them somewhere secure so they can crash. We’ll figure this shit out in the morning,” Emperor ordered. 

James and I collapsed in the back of the ambulance, which Croissant drove like she stole it back to Lavina’s apartment building. James and I had a lot to discuss, but for now, we just held one another. 

“I never want to leave the landship again,” I told him. 

“Me neither,” he agreed. “Too bad we still have to go to Victoria.”

I groaned. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be such a disaster.

Who am I kidding? We were mixing Victorians and Tarans. They make us Siracusans look like amateurs when it comes to hatred. 

Author’s Note:

She’s trying her best, OK?