Stupid Sexy Cryptids [88-91]

88: Skinwalker Clan

“I dunno. Maybe this attack is a distraction from some other dastardly vampire plan?” I ranted, pretending to be mentally coerced by the Skinwalker Charmchain into the conversation. “Maybe they ran out of bullets because their compound was blown up by the Frontenachii?”

I took a nervous breath. Looked at the extra-annoyed Galateya. Looked at Keiy. Looked at Count Chocula’s remains twitching slightly. Looked at the frozen customers. Looked at Fennel blocking the exit.

Yep. I had nothing else wise to output.

Then I heard footsteps on the stairs leading to the second floor and tower reading room.

Heavy footsteps of leather boots. Coming down.

Marya's ears rotated toward the sound. Fennel frowned.

A third voice called from above. Female. Amused. "Mimi! Fin! You started the party without me? Rude!"

A woman descended the stairs. She wore a plaid skirt and a black tank top that said "CRYPTID ENERGY" in faded, colorful letters. She had brilliant, sky-blue eyes, freckles and wildly vibrant, red hair.

"Oh fun," the newcomer said, surveying the destruction. "Vampires, dragons, and—" she sniffed the air, "—guns. Did someone order the interdimensional warfare combo platter?"

"Sage," Marya growled. "This doesn't concern you. Go back upstairs.”

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure anything that happens in Cascade in terms of vamps concerns the entire Pack." Sage hopped down the last three stairs. "And sis, you know what mom said about eating interdimensional visitors in public. S’ bad for tourism."

“I’m not eating anyone in public!” Marya stated.

“You’re drooling pretty bad and intently staring at that thar’ Omnid dragon cutie and her… Bulk Hogan date,” Sage pointed out with a chortle. “Come on, sis, un-wolf yourself and tell the customers to go home.”

"These assholes staged a fake vampire attack in my cafe!" Mare pointed an accusing finger at me and Galateya. 

Yep, she had creepy, web-bone, extra-elongated fingers now, the bone-sword and hammer gone.

"Did they?" Sage looked genuinely delighted. "That's adorable. Why? You two are some kinda interdimensional pranksters? Wait. Am I being recorded?" She sniffed the air and then stared at Keiy. “Yeah, definitely being recorded. Hi, whoever’s watching this. I consent to being pranked and being cast across the Omniverse!”

“Sage!” Marya hissed as the redhead skipped over to her with plaid skirt flutters and jiggle of chain-hoops on her belt featuring a large “SOUL-NOM-U” belt buckle. A dark choker sat on her neck with the words “CORNFIELD CASANOVA” embossed into the leather.

I could see why they kept her upstairs. Her outfit, sparkling hair and heart-stopping face outed her out from the crowd at a single glance like the girl in the red dress from the Matrix.

“I didn’t stage shit and I’m not here to prank anyone,” Galateya growled, mane turning into icicles. “I came here to relax and enjoy books and coffee!”

"Indeed,” I nodded. “We came here for coffee and croissants. The vampires showing up was just unfortunate timing. I'd rate the morning a solid six out of ten. Great coffee, terrible carnage. Shocking revelations. Unexpected Skinwalker friends."

“Friends?!” Galateya’s violet eyes snapped to me.

“Potential friends,” I smiled at Sage and Marya. “I’m already friends with Marya. She came to my grandpa’s funeral. Honestly, I had no idea that she was a Skinwalker. Are you guys local or did your family use a dimensional gate to get to Cascade recently?”

"Oh I like him," Sage whispered conspiratorially, elbowing Mare. "Mimi, can we keep him?"

"No," Marya said flatly.

"Please? I'll feed him protein shakes and walk him every day to the gym."

"Sage!"

“Nobody’s keeping him,” Galateya growled, tail wrapping around me. “He’s my consort.”

“Rawr, what a possessive Captain Smolder,” Sage laughed, putting her hand around Marya's shoulder. “Come on, sis, chill out. You don’t want interdimensional cable to show us as uncouth ruffians, right? I mean, yeah, we’re basically backwoods beans in terms of Omniverse importance, but you don’t need to lean into it so hard.”

“You’re a plaid possum is what you are,” Fennel commented.

“Guilty as charged,” Sage curtsied. 

Marya’s fucked up inside-out wolf-ness lessened further, brown fur sinking into her body and turning into curly brown hair, extra muscles melting in, wolf-skull folding into a cute, extra-pretty human face dotted with freckles.

“All humans, except for Ash, leave,” she ordered with the extra-resonant voice. “There was a… a false fire alarm that went off so you had to leave. You will not remember any details other than a very boring fire alarm event. You will receive free drinks for the inconvenience tomorrow. The cafe is closed for today.”

Ah, I am exposed. Guess the gigachad prosthetics don’t hide my Astral imprint that well from Skinwalker noses or whatever.

Marya walked over to the front door and flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. Propping the door open with her boot she watched as customers began to emerge from their booths, departing from the cafe with glassy eyes.

Sage smoothly slid over to our booth and offered me her hand. “Sanguine Raelle Vale,” she introduced herself. I noticed that a friendship-style bracelet sat on her wrist with “MOONJUICE BANDIT” spelled in colorful letters.

“Ashcroft Clifford,” I shook her hand. Her skin felt unnaturally soft and she smelled like summer rain and freshly baked bread.

Sage kept her hand up facing Galateya. Galateya squinted at me, then at the offered hand, not moving.

“This is my dragon Lady Galateya,” I said. “And that’s our lovely gun unit, Keiy.”

“Charming.” Sanguine put her hand down and slid into our booth and rested her chin on her arms. “So, Ash, why do you look like… Shred Zeppelin?”

She looked even prettier up close. Too pretty. The sunlight breaking through the window ignited her red, curly hair. Her smile was absolutely heart stopping, each freckle perfectly framing her far-too disarming, wide, ocean-blue eyes.

“Why do you look like you came out of a Photoshopped movie poster?” I fired back.

“Touche,” Sanguine laughed jovially. “That’s ‘cus, I’m a Skinwalker Omnid. My Phase-Shift adjusts itself to match optimal observer expectations.”

“Ah. Well, this is my Lord Constantine Belthys face,” I said. “It’s for… special occasions.”

“Special occasions… liiiiiike?” The redhead asked.

“Like public relations and surviving vampire assassination attempts.” I stated. “It’s basically a rental face. Comes with its own ego.”

Sanguine snorted. “So you’re leasing masculinity by the hour?”

“Only on weekends.” I smiled. “On weekdays, I downgrade to ‘guy who forgets to take chicken out of the freezer.’”

Quit flirting with everyone! Galateya’s glare stated.

I’m not flirting, I'm collecting strategic Skinwalker-reconnaissance! I tried to express back.

Galateya's tail tightened around my waist harder. A gentle reminder that I belonged to her. Or a threat. It was hard to tell with her.

The inside-out-bear folded himself into a slightly nerdy-looking, handsome, skinny-fit dark haired, blue eyed man in his late 20s. He went into a closet and returned with a large broom and started sweeping fake vampire remnants into a corner with a weary expression.

Sage tilted her head, inhaling deep. "You're radiating... hmmmm. Magisteel-circuts-Vamp-fusion smell. Very thick. But underneath..." She leaned closer, sniffing. "Human. Mmmm… Something else too. Can't quite place it…”

"Probably anxiety," I said. "I have a lot of that."

Sanguine laughed. The sound was definitely tuned-up, optimized to maximum charm. "You're Archie Clifford's grandson?"

"That's me."

"I remember you." Her disarming, blue eyes sparkled, lit from within. "Skinny kid. Always reading. Used to sit in the tower… right below my room with your… Wendigo friend."

My heart skipped. "Wendigo friend?"

"Mhmmm. The dark-skull girl in the sparkly dress."

Ah fuck. "You could see her?"

"Yep." Sanguine grinned. “We could all see her. Skinwalker eyes can bypass basic holofractal glamours. Part of our whole deal. It was… cute how she pretended to be your doggo in town. Cute how you’ve read books to her. I… wanted to reveal myself to you two, you know. But I was pretty shy back then and mom told me to stay upstairs… cus’ I’m bad at… uhh… social situations involving humans."

Her freckles slid around ever so slightly, spelling out words. Her right cheek said “BITE” and right cheek said “ME”.

I chortled. Galateya let out a bothered huff.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Sanguine raised an eyebrow and massaged her cheeks. The words vanished.

Marya finished shoving vampire chunks into a few trash bags. She looked fully human now. Brown hair in a messy bun. Cute freckles. Green apron. Still radiating murder. "We… knew. The whole Pack knew about you and your Wendigo pal, Ash.”

“Mare thought you were gonna get eaten eventually,” Fennel commented. “We had a betting pool going."

"A betting pool on my death?" I asked.

"Yeah. You hung out with her, being all friendly." Sanguine said. "Classic snack behavior. We figured one day she'd snap and chomp. But nope. You're still here."

"How many Skinwalkers are in Cascade?" Galateya demanded, deciding to go on the offensive.

"Enough," Marya said flatly.

"That's not an answer," the Taniwha growled.

Sage tapped the table with four fingers, each long, stylized nail painted in a different color.

Marya crossed her arms, not noticing what Sage was doing. "Look, dragon girl. We've had a peaceful arrangement with the vamps here for decades. Everyone stayed in their lane. Then you Frontenachii arrived and blew the vampire compound to bits. Now we've got half-baked vamps making fake attacks in our cafe for some fucking reason. You two..." She glared at us. "Whatever you're planning, it better not mess up our territory."

"We're not planning anything," I said, planning far too many things in the Backend of my mind.

"Bullshit," Marya snapped. "You show up wearing a reinforced magitek frame. Your dragon girlfriend packs a Frontenachii symbiote gun. You walk into my cafe looking like a recruitment poster. Then vampires attack with a fake truck bomb and empty guns. That's not a coincidence!”

"Maybe the vampires are just really bad at attacking?" I suggested.

Sanguine snorted. "Nice try. But Mimi's right. This whole thing smells like a biiiiig fake prank. Question is..." She leaned forward, blue eyes locked on mine, curvy cleavage on display. "What was it for? Who’s watching us through that gun?”

I sighed, the Frontend of my mind melting into pure obedience from how impossibly pretty she was. Galateya’s glare was drilling a hole in my head.

“I’ll tell you the truth later, if you work with me,” I offered.

“Work with you on… what?” Sage leaned forward even more.

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “I’ve never met Skinwalkers before. I’ve yet to understand your Omnitype skills and downsides. I don’t even know my Taniwha dragon that well yet.” I glanced at Teya. “We only met this week.”

“Why exactly would we work with a Taniwha Omnid and her kobold?” Marya asked.

My mind suddenly wobbled sideways. The Backend and Frontend split into two as the Emperor Gun Unit reactivated. Functioning in two places at once wasn’t something that humans were designed for, but then again I wasn’t an average human. Whatever Shady had done to my head as a kid nearly permanently cleaved me in half.

In the cafe, Constantine Belthys sat across from a disarming Skinwalker girl.

In Admiral Evelithria's capital ship, the Emperor of Earth's ‘corpse’ was being carried through dark metal corridors by Marshal Commandant Nexxali Everrim following the Admiral who was carrying the dead body of Shady. Our final destination was ahead of us.

The split consciousness made my skull throb. Not with pain exactly—more like trying to listen to two conversations simultaneously, each demanding my full attention. This was a problem.

The Backend processed the sensation of being carried, ready to snap into action at a moment's notice.

The Frontend-me was alone in the cafe now. What remained in Constantine's head was just... me. Ashcroft Clifford. No supernatural multitasking. No perfect emotional control. No faraday cage against magical bullshit.

Which meant the Charmchain magic radiating from Sanguine's ridiculously perfect face burrowed into me without stopping. Her smile hit me like an ice cream truck without breaks and I felt myself drifting to magical Isekai land of whimsical waifus who promised warm hugs and kisses. My pants suddenly felt very tight.

God damn it.

I closed my eyes, but I still saw her smiling, extremely photogenic face in front of me, heard her PERFECT breathing, imagined the BITE ME spelled on her cheeks and wanted to cry out “YES PLEASE!”

Keeping myself actively split between two places was a problematic task when interacting with the unexpected sexy Skinwalker inquisition.

89: Ultimatum

"Enough! You either cooperate with me," I ground out without opening my eyes, "or I bag your entire Pack right now!"

The Charmchain radiance pouring from Sage momentarily faltered.

"Excuse me?" Marya's voice carried a deadly edge. 

“Bag us?! You and what…” Fennel asked sharply.

I snapped my fingers, giving the signal to Kawthy. 

A Corpse Seeker appeared in front of the cafe from thin air, crystalline edges gleaming. Glowing eyes of the Omnid tank flared from within its slanted head, lighting up the cafe interiors with blinding beams of light.

The Skinwalkers froze. 

“Drop the Charmchain apperance. NOW!” I barked. “Or she’s going to open fire!”

"Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry!" Sage cried out. "I didn't—I wasn't trying to—it just happens when I get excited!"

The overwhelming seductive pull evaporated. My pants situation became marginally less embarrassing.

I slowly opened my eyes. The thing now sitting in front of us with raised hands definitely wasn’t human. 

A wet, white animal skull with glowing blue eyes stared at me, hands raised in the air. Large fox ears stuck out from the edges of the skull, tilted back in fear. The rest of her also looked distinctively vulpine, like someone left a dead fox rotting next to an ant hill that had halfway stripped its flesh off. She smelled like rot too, the far too pleasant flavour of fresh bread gone from the air. 

Marya's hands were up too. So were Fennel's. Both stared at the Corpse Seeker looming outside the window, the crystalline armor refracting sunlight into rainbow death-promises.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Fennel shouted. "Nobody needs to bag anybody!"

"Ash, please!" Marya's voice lost its edge, replaced with genuine alarm. "We… we’re not your enemies!"

"Then stop fucking with my head!" I snapped, "I came here for coffee and books to get to know my dragon fiancee better. That's it. I didn't ask for vampire theater. I didn't ask to be magically roofied by your sister."

"I said I'm sorry!" Sage whined. Her voice sounded slightly like nails scraping against a blackboard now, unnervingly uncanny. "My Phase-Shift optimization has a side effect. It cranks up the Charmchain automatically. I… I can't always control it unless I push it down forcefully!”

Galateya blinked, scales darkening. “Ah, damn it. She got me too. Could barely think of what to say, staring at that blasted alluring face so hard.”

“First time interacting with Skinwalkers?” I asked her.

“Yeah.” She said, levelling Keiy at Sage. “Stay bony or I’ll take your head off. Got it?”

Sage nodded rapidly, her entire body trembling. She was as tall as Galateya now, skin replaced with animal, rotting muscles and white, glistening, exposed bones.

“Right then,” I said sharply. “Do Skinwalkers eat human souls? Be honest. Teya, you can tell if they lie to me, yes?”

Galateya nodded. “The first person to lie gets shot.” She stated.

The three Skinwalkers stared at the massive crystalline centipede looming outside the cafe window and at her gun, nodding in cooperation.

Marya swallowed. "Yes. We can eat human souls. But we don't. Not here."

"Why not?" I pressed.

"Because we're not monsters," Fennel said quietly. "We have rules. Our… Pack has rules…"

“Rules set by Mom!” Sage added. “She lived in Omnithornia, a super civilized place! We're not wild beasts!”

"Your sister's belt buckle says 'SOUL-NOM-U,'" Galateya pointed out.

Sage's ears drooped. "It's... it's ironic. I thought it was funny. I've never actually—I… I honestly don’t get to get out that much. Every human who sees me automatically, gradually… falls in love with me if I, like, spend more than ten minutes with them."

“What do you eat then?” I asked.

Galateya's scales had gone pure obsidian, mane now made blue frost. Ready for violence. Her claws squeezed Keiy.

"We don't hunt local humans, Ash,” Marya affirmed. “There are plenty of animals to snack on in the woods.”

Sage nodded.

“Are you immortal?” I continued my interrogation. “How old are you?”

“We are immortal, yes. As long as we eat souls we can’t die from old age. I’m seventy six,” Marya answered, not looking a day over twenty.

“Fourty nine.” Fin said.

“Nineteen,” Sage let out. 

“And the rest of your family?”

“Just mom,” Sage let out. “She’s… uhh…”

“One hundred and six years old,” Marya said with a sigh. 

“Are they being honest?” I asked Galateya.

“I… think so,” she let out. “Almost honest.”

“Almost honest, hum?” I tapped my gigachad chin with an armored glove. “What are you hiding?”

“We… ate three people.” Sage trembled under the harsh glare of the Corpse Seeker lights. “Our… humanoid forms… They were teens who were… dying. Three years ago, I… ate a girl in Seattle who was in a coma from Covid. Marya’s human form was a girl dying from tuberculosis in 1960. Fin ate a boy who got terribly injured in a motorcycle accident in 1992.”

“Sage!” Marya hissed. Their brother sighed deeply.

“What, sis?” Sanguine asked. “He’s got us checkered with a tank! What do you want me to do? Tell a funny joke? Bake some cookies? Pretend we don't have a Corpse Seeker breathing down our necks?”

Marya rubbed her temples. "Mom's going to kill us for revealing Pack secrets."

"Mom's not going to kill anyone," Sanguine waved dismissively. "We're adults and she's too busy running her bakery.”

“How did you get here?” I resumed my Corpse Seeker backed interrogation.

“Mom came here in the 50s,” Marya said. “A Wendigo sold her a gate to Cascade. A paradise world with like a bazillion defenceless souls to snack on. No dungeons. Harmless no-mag human population that’s hell-a-easy to blend in.”

"Which bakery does your mom run?”

"Vale's Baking Heaven," Fennel said. "On Main Street. Been there since she bought the place in the fifties."

I blinked. "I've been to that bakery. Multiple times. Your mom made my grandfather's funeral cake."

"Yep," Marya said flatly. "You ate Mom's baked goods. Congratulations."

"They're just regular cakes!" Sage stated, seeing my face. “Nothing magical. No compulsion in the dough! Mom's a pro Culimancer!”

I processed this revelation. Vale's Baking Heaven. The cheerful woman who'd hugged me at Grandpa's funeral. Who'd known me since I was a kid. Who'd made birthday cakes and Christmas cookies and...

"Your mother came here in the fifties," I said slowly. "The vampires showed up in 1922. Did she know about them when she arrived?"

The three Skinwalkers exchanged glances.

“Mom ran into them accidentally,” Marya said. “They made a deal to be chill and not to muscle in on each other’s business.”

"And your father?" I asked. "Where's he?"

“Dead,” Marya said simply.

“Was he some kind of Omnid or…?

“We had different dads,” Sage revealed. “All human. Mom doesn’t do long term relationships…”

"Did she kill them or something?" I asked.

"No!" Sage looked genuinely horrified. "She just... left them. When things got too intense."

"Too intense how?"

Marya sighed. "Skinwalkers can't maintain long-term romantic relationships with humans. The intimacy makes the soul-hunger worse. The closer you get to someone, the more their soul calls to you. Eventually, you either break up or..."

"Or you eat them," I finished.

"Yeah." Fennel looked uncomfortable. "That's why Mom always kept her relationships... Berief. Had us. Raised us. Taught us to control the urges. To keep our own relationships with humans short and open. No long term dating.”

“She didn't stay with our fathers long enough to risk it." Sage sighed.

"How many souls does your Pack eat per year?" Galateya demanded, not lowering Keiy.

"We hunt animals once every few days in the Olympic National Forest. Deer, elk, squirrels, boars, cougars, foxes, bears. Animal souls sustain us fine." Marya said.

"You still ate three people," Galateya growled.

"Would you prefer we look like rotting animals forever?" Fennel snapped. "We need human forms to blend in! To live here! We found people who were already ninety nine percent dead and gave their bodies and souls new purpose!"

"Repurposed as skin suits," I commented flatly.

Sage flinched. "When you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad."

"It IS bad," Galateya hissed.

"Bad compared to what?" Fennel asked, bristling. "Compared to the Frontenachii Empire genociding entire planets who refuse to integrate? Compared to vampires draining people dry? We took three dying teens who would've been buried and forgotten in a week, and we made something out of them. We live. We work. We contribute to this town."

"You run a cafe," I said. "Your mom runs a bakery. That's... surprisingly normal."

"What did you expect?" Marya crossed her arms. "Some kind of soul-harvesting death cult? We're not comic book villains, Ash. We're just trying to live quiet lives."

"Why?"

Marya blinked. "Why what?"

"Why live quiet lives?" I pressed. "You're immortal soul-eating shapeshifters. You could be doing... I don't know, literally anything else. Why run a book cafe and bakery in Cascade, Washington?"

"Because Mom wanted us to be normal," Sage said. "She had some beef back in Omnithornia, had to get away from her Clan and Elders. Cascade has a slightly softer… Aether. Keeping a human face on is easier here than anywhere else."

"What kind of beef?" I asked.

"The bad kind," Marya sighed. "She didn't tell us the details. Just that she doesn't ever want to go back home."

"How many other Omnids are in Cascade?" Galateya demanded. "Besides your Pack and the vampires?"

The Skinwalkers exchanged glances again.

"As far as we know… Just us four and the vamps," Marya said carefully. "Though after the Frontenachii nuked the vamps, who knows what'll crawl out of the woodwork or arrive from the Wendigo-run worlds via gates."

“Mom said that tourists and immigrants are gonna be coming soon from doomed worlds,” Sage added.

Keiy's eyes suddenly blazed with purple light.

"Incoming transmission," the gun unit announced. "Legate Ixthia!"

A holographic projection erupted from Keiy's central eye, filling the cafe.

The Legate materialized. 

This time she wasn’t in the black-fluid bath. She sat on a dark floor in some kind of a dim corridor lit by frickering blue runes. The Wendigo was completely naked, her body covered in fresh blood. Her diamond-studded antlers caught the eerie light as she bit into something.

It was a… pradavarian cheetah soaked in blood. Sliced cleanly in half at the torso.

The prad was still alive. Barely. His golden-violet eyes stared at nothing, shock keeping him quietly weeping as the Legate consumed his innards.

Behind her, a group of about ten male prad kobolds of various species stood wearing decorative silver and gold jewelry that left little to the imagination. Their faces showed pure terror. One was crying silently trembling at the sight of the feast.

"Ah, my darling spawnling!" Ixthia's voice rang cheerfully through the cafe, her mouth full of cheetah organs. She swallowed and smiled, blood dripping from her teeth. “Good to see that you and your new lovely consort are doing well.”

The Skinwalkers stared in horror at the holographic feast.

Galateya's scales went pure white, mane turning to long icicles. "Great-grandmother, is that—"

“Just having a light snack.” She took another bite. The cheetah whimpered.

Galateya blanched.

"Poor Archer Silvertail here got himself cut in half by a metal sentinel," Ixthia explained conversationally. "That's how the game is played on the Entertainment Deck. Everyone levels up through shared kill-experience. Someone’s gotta die from time to time to keep things fair too. Isn't that right, boys?"

The kobolds rapidly nodded in response.

"I want to see my sister," Archer whisper-wept. "Please. Addie. I have to tell her not to sign the—"

"Shhhh," Ixthia stroked his face. "Addie hasn't signed her contract yet. But she will. They all do eventually. You must be patient, darling."

The dying cheetah bubbled blood.

"Now then," Ixthia returned her attention to us. "I couldn't help but notice you've found and interrogated some interesting locals. Skinwalkers! How marvelously unexpected!"

"Great-grandmother," Galateya said carefully, her voice tight, "we're in the middle of—"

"Of making new friends! Yes, Keiy outlined as much for me." Ixthia took another leisurely bite, blood running down her chin in red rivets. 

Sage, Marya, and Fennel had gone completely still, not even daring to breathe.

"Tell me," Ixthia continued, silver eyes gleaming through the projection, "which Omnicorp do you belong to? Moonfeast? Fleshweave? Oh, don't tell me you're with the Nightshears. I simply adored their delegation at the treaty negotiations. Such exquisite negotiators. Very... flexible in their terms. Easy to work with."

"We're... independent," Marya managed. Her human face had gone pale. "No Omnicorp affiliation."

"Independent!" Ixthia laughed, "That’s what I thought. How delightfully rebellious. Your Elders must be furious. Do they know where you are?"

"No," Fennel uttered quickly.

"Ah." The Legate's smile widened. "Runaways! Even better. That means no diplomatic complications if I decide to claim you as colonial assets. Which is what you’re now. My assets. More specifically, my little rainbow’s new assets.”

“What?” Galateya blinked.

I already guessed where this was going.

"One of you will submit to my granddaughter as a blood-bound Knight. Immediately. Right now." She smiled sweetly.

"One?" Marya choked. 

"Just one," Ixthia confirmed. "Galateya is far too low-level to dominate multiple Omnids properly. She needs to start small. Build up. One… devoted, fully bound Knight-Maid to begin her ascension as my lovely Baroness of Earth." She paused. "The rest of you can function as Galateya’s assets on general blood contracts. Be her Sixies. I’ll have someone from Division 881 come by and handle that business. Probably… Commandant Nexxali Everrim and Commander Sillicia, once they finish with their other work today. You have thirty seconds to decide among yourselves. Pick one Knight."

A red [00:30] flashed on the front of Keiy’s head.

I knew exactly what Nexxali was doing now, was watching her through my other eyes.

90: Timed Despair

The three Skinwalkers exchanged panicked glances. 

[00:20] the timer flashed.

"Tick tock," Ixthia commented, taking another casual bite from Archer's torso. The pradavarian shuddered. "Oh, and just so we're clear—refusing isn't an option. If none of you volunteer, I'll simply pick one of the girls and have the Seeker harvest your male for the… lack of cooperation. He can work his way out of my displeasure on the Entertainment Deck. Though I should warn you, the mortality rate for beginners is..." She paused thoughtfully. "Seventy-eight percent? Seventy-nine? I lose track.”

[00:11]

"I'll do it," Sage said suddenly and the countdown froze.

"Sage, no!" Marya grabbed her sister's arm. "You don't know what you're—"

"I'm the youngest," Sage interrupted, fox skull turning to face Marya. "You and Fin have responsibilities here. The cafe. Mom needs you. I'm just... I'm the useless spare. The comic relief. I don't even get to leave the tower during the day."

"That's not—" Fennel started.

“The blood contract might require us to quit working at the cafe,” Marya let out. “We don’t know what’s going to be in it! This… You’re basically signing up to spend the rest of your life as her servant.”

"Eh," Sage shrugged, "how bad can it be? I get to hang out with a cute dragon girl and her incredibly jacked up human ‘bold. Getting kinda sick of being an attic hermit.”

Marya exhaled.

"Relax sis. She's not going to eat me. She's too busy having relationship anxiety," Sage commented, glancing at Galateya.

Galateya's white-gray scales flushed with slight pink and green.

"Excellent choice," Ixthia clapped her bloody hands together. "The fox skinny has spirit. I like her. Galateya, do bind her properly. Don't embarrass me."

"Yes, Great-grandmother," Galateya forced the words out of herself.

"Oh, and before I forget," Ixthia turned her attention to me. "Consort-bold! Tell me about this old Wendigo friend of yours. The one the Skinwalkers mentioned. The girl in the sparkly dress?"

God damn it, fuck. 

"They're talking about Xandria Frontenachii," I said. “She and I were friends when we were kids.”

“Xandria, hum? I'll have to look her up later,” Ixthia said. “How many bloody Omnids did that idiot sell gate access to? Slayer,” she muttered, probably thinking about Zexxia, then looked at me. “And… where is she now?”

“On Earth,” I said. 

“Oh? Will she be a problem for my granddaughter’s ascension?”

I considered my options. Lying to the Legate seemed stupid since Keiy could just tell her things anyway. Telling the whole truth seemed equally stupid.

"No," I said carefully. "Xandria won't be a problem."

"You sound quite certain," Ixthia observed, licking blood from her skull-snout. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because she’s my childhood friend," I said. "I know her better than anyone. She will help Lady Galateya’s ascension if I simply ask her.”

Ixthia's silver eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "How sweet. A childhood friendship that transcends dimensional and species barriers. Hmmm. So I am right, as always. Omnids can enjoy human company just fine." The Legate took another bite, chewing contemplatively. "Speaking of bonds, my little rainbow, you've gone quite green there."

Galateya's scales had indeed shifted to an acidic lime color, her mane crackling with tiny electrical sparks.

"Have you met this… Xandria?" Ixthia asked with maternal curiosity.

The dragon girl's silence stretched uncomfortably long.

"Galateya," the Legate's voice carried a bell of warning.

"Yes," Galateya ground out. "We've met."

"And?"

"Xandria bullied Galateya a tad when they met," I said, "they're on much better terms now."

Galateya nodded, her mane sparkling with even more emeralds.

"Jealous, are we?" Ixthia's smile widened.

Galateya's scales rippled through shades of toxic green and yellow. "I'm not—"

"Spawnling mine," Ixthia interrupted sweetly. "Your Phase-shift betrays every emotion. It's one of your more... endearing weaknesses. Now answer the question."

The dragon girl's claws dug into Keiy's grip. "She's... Xandria's known Ash longer. They have shared memories. Inside jokes. She understands him far better than I do. She—" Galateya's voice cracked slightly. "She was here first!"

"Ah." The Legate's expression softened, even as she continued her grotesque feast. "First consort anxiety. A classic problem."

"He's my ONLY consort!" Galateya snapped. "Xandria has an established emotional connection with him that I can't compete with! Yes, I'm jealous of that, damn it."

"Good," Ixthia said approvingly. "Jealousy means you care. Caring means investment. Investment means you'll work harder to secure your position at the top of this world. Use that feeling, my rainbow. Channel it into ambition."

"How?" Galateya asked miserably.

"By making yourself indispensable to this world and to its people like your consort" the Legate explained. "This Xandria girl may have history, but you have something she doesn't—official status, a blood bond! He's YOUR consort, bound to YOUR ascension. She's just a childhood friend with nostalgic memories. You're his future. Act like it!"

Teya nodded, not looking like she was committed to anything of the sort.

"Speaking of which," Ixthia's eyes glinted mischievously, "have you two consummated your bond yet?"

Galateya's scales went supernova white, steam literally rising from her body. Small, dark flowers erupted across her mane and immediately withered to ash.

"Great-grandmother!" she squeaked.

"That's a no," the Legate observed dryly. "Keiy?"

"Negative consummation detected," Keiy reported clinically. "Situation analysis suggests mutual attraction with significant anxiety barriers. Current intimacy level: awkward hand-holding."

"I don't—we just—there hasn't been time!" Galateya sputtered, looking absolutely destroyed.

"Excuses. You are to fuck him tonight," Ixthia said, ripping off Archer's arm. The pradavarian cheetah had gone mercifully unconscious. "A consort who hasn't been properly ridden is just a pretty accessory."

"We've been busy!" Galateya protested, scales flickering between mortified pink and defensive orange. "There were vampires and Skinwalkers and—"

"I don't want to hear it," Ixthia waved dismissively. "Keiy, establish dual countdown protocols for two new Quests. Ten hours for consummation. And… shall we say, four hours for the Skinwalker Knight binding? Yes. That’s more than enough time to arrange contract terms with the Skinwalker family. Begin countdown."

[09:59]

[03:59]

The countdowns began. Galateya let out a noise of a dying dragon, scales turning into jet black coals and mane reshaping itself into jagged obsidian shards.

"There you are," Ixthia sucked on the remnants of Archer's hand like a lollypop. "I expect excellent reports on both completions. Don't disappoint me, spawnling." She turned to her trembling kobolds. "What are you standing around for? Start running! The next level awaits! When I'm done chewing Archie I'll be coming for you next!"

The hologram faded out. The pradavarian kobolds' screams echoed briefly through the cafe before cutting off with Ixthia's laughter.

Silence.

Then Galateya exploded.

"FUCK!" She grabbed Keiy and threw him at the nearest wall with enough force to leave a deep hole in the drywall. Keiy’s eyes flickered as the gun spidered out of the wall-hole. "Fuck fuck FUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!"

"Teya—" I started.

Galateya whirled on me, violet eyes blazing. "Don't you ‘Teya' me right now! Do you have ANY idea what she just did?!"

"Set ridiculous Quest deadlines?" I offered.

"Ridiculous?! Try HUMILIATING!" Her entire mane turned to ice, frost spreading out across the table and floor, snowflakes spiralling around her. "She just ordered us to—to—in front of WITNESSES! With TIMERS! Like we're some kind of—of—"

"Entertainment," I finished quietly.

Galateya's indoor-winter spread further, creeping up the walls. The temperature in the cafe dropped thirty degrees in seconds.

"Entertainment!" she snarled bitterly. "Yes. Exactly. That's all I am to her. A fucking show. 'Oh, let's watch the awkward Taniwha raised in a fucking time bubble try to seduce her human consort! Let's give her idiotic fucking Quest deadlines! Let's force her to get an Omnid Knight! Let's embarrass her in front of fucking Skinwalkers!'"

The ice reached the ceiling, forming crystalline patterns that refracted light into harsh, cold rainbows.

Her eyes filled with tears. As they fell, the air and table where they landed hissed, turning to ice. I pulled back slightly, the gigachad suit flashing [Danger! Extreme cold!] warnings in my eyes. Was she crying with liquid nitrogen?!

"She doesn't respect me," Galateya lamented, more tears freezing the air mid-fall. "She never has. I'm just a... a puppet for her schemes. A tool. A—"

"Hey." I reached toward her carefully, mindful of the spreading frost. "Teya..."

"Fuck off!" She growled. "I'm done! I'm fucking done!"

"Done?" I blinked.

"Yes, done! I'm at my wits end here!" She howled, clawing her face. "You... fucking Xandria, fucking Nexxali, fucking all morning..."

Keiy skittered back to her. "You cannot be done. You have a..."

"Oh fuck you!" The Taniwha barked at her symbiote weapon. "Get the fuck outta my face!” She grabbed Keiy and reality wobbled. The gun unit froze solid to the table, red eyes flickering and then dimming completely. The countdown timers vanished. 

Galateya stared at her gun as if she didn't expect to actually be able to turn it off with her water-bending powers.

"Damn, that's some Elsa-tier shit right there," Sanguine commented. "And here I thought that mom was scary when she got mad."

"Sage," Marya hissed. "Read the room."

"What? I'm just saying—"

Fennel smacked the fox to shut her up. She smacked him back.

Galateya's shoulders shook. More frozen tears hit the table, creating a spreading pattern of ice crystals. Her breathing came in ragged gasps.

"I'm so fucking alone," she whispered. "Even in that house. Especially in that house. I wake up to them—to you three—" She looked at me with devastating clarity. "I felt it ALL in the Astral. The three of you… entwining together while I'm just... Stuck cooking breakfast. Playing house."

I felt my stomach drop. 

Shit, I really didn't consider her feelings. Would inviting her to our bed fix things? Probably not, as Shady expected absolute devotion during sex.

"I'm just the useless Hearth Keeper," she continued bitterly. "Not the Prima. Not part of your Circle. Just the dragon who fixes pipes and makes eggs while you fuck your actual partners."

"Teya, that's not—"

"Don't lie to me." Her voice went cold. "I know what happens in that bedroom. I know how you look at them. How they look at you." More tears froze reality. "I'm just the politically convenient consort. The one you have to pretend to care about!"

The Skinwalkers trio looked lost and uncertain at this turn of events, wincing as the air got colder with each minute.

"That's not true," I said carefully. "You're not—"

"Then why?!" She slammed her fists on the table. Ice exploded outward in jagged spikes. "Why haven't you LOOKED at me like you look at them?! Why do I have to have a fucking TIMER to get you to consider touching me?!"

Her voice broke completely on the last word.

"I read all those books," she sobbed, absolute zero tears streaming down her scaled cheeks. "All those stories about humans and Omnids finding love. Building something real. And I thought—I actually thought—that maybe I could have that. That maybe someone would see me as more than just a tool. More than just Doctor Iowsh's experiment or Great-grandmother's Baroness puppet or—"

She choked on her words, collapsing forward onto the frozen table.

"I'm so fucking stupid," she whispered into the ice. "Falling for the first person who was nice to me. Who held my hand. Who pretended to care."

"I do care," I said.

"Do you?!" Galateya's head snapped up, violet eyes blazing through cold tears. "Or do you just care about whatever scheme you and Xandria and Nexxali are running?!"

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

She was right. At least partially right. 

My plans involved her, yes, but as a piece on the board. A necessary ally. Not as... not as someone I'd actually considered as an immediate romantic partner. I already had my hands full with Shady, Nexy and saving the world.

"That's what I thought," she said bitterly, watching my hesitation. "You can't even deny it. You... you aren't even here for me! You're not even here, not fully! I can taste the injustice of it all with my Omnid heart! You're fucking somewhere else!"

I felt my consciousness strain between two places. Between being there for Shady and being here for Teya.

"You're right," I admitted, glancing at the frozen, disabled gun.

Galateya blinked, clearly not expecting my honesty.

"I'm not... fully here," I continued. "Part of me is somewhere else. Doing something else. And yes, I have plans. Schemes. Things I can't tell you about because—because a lot of people depend on them succeeding!"

Galateya let out another sob. More frozen tears hit the table, forming intricate crystalline patterns that spread like frost fractals. Her entire body shook with the force of her crying, scales rippling through whites mixed with sickly greens, ash grays bleeding into bruised blacks.

I reached toward her again.

"Don't," she choked out. "Just... don't. Don't touch me."

I withdrew my hand, feeling utterly helpless. The Backend of my mind was preoccupied with events unfolding two hundred thousand miles above the Earth where the Slayer's Sword Third fleet capital ship loomed beside the moon.

The Frontend existing in Cascade struggled with what to say, how to help, how to fix this catastrophic emotional disaster. If Teya accidentally froze my neural network connection to my other gun-unit self, if I failed my mission, then Shady would probably stay dead permanently, become unmade by her family.

Fuck my life.

91: Let it go

"I can't—I can't do this," Galateya sobbed. More frozen tears crystallized on the table. The temperature continued dropping. My breath came out in visible puffs now.

"Teya, please—"

"No! You don't get it!" Her claws dug into the frozen wood, leaving deep gouges. "You're never fully HERE! Part of you is always somewhere else! Always planning! Always calculating! Even now, while I'm falling apart, you're DIVIDED worse than fucking ever!"

She was right. God, she was so right it hurt.

"I can taste it," she continued, voice breaking. "Your soul. It's... split. Fragmented. You're experiencing something else. Probably fucking those two again, right?"

More ice spread across the floor. The windows frosted over. The entire cafe groaned, ice blossoming across every surface in fractal patterns.

"No," I said, retreating away from her more [danger! disconnection warning!] messages flashed in my eyes. Teya wasn't just freezing the air. She was freezing the signal to my other body, her anger bending, shifting reality, fuzzing up the signal. "I'm… fighting for my life, actually. Please stop crying. I really need to focus…”

Galateya's violet eyes went wide, then narrowed. "Of course you are. Of course! Even now you're—"

"Okay!" Sanguine suddenly appeared between us, her fox-skull face somehow managing to look both sympathetic and exasperated. "Timeout! Everyone take five!"

"This doesn't concern you," Galateya snarled.

"Mmm, see, it kinda does though?" Sage gestured at the cafe. "Because A: this is my family’s business you're about to turn into an ice sculpture garden, and B: I'm apparently your new Knight now, which means your emotional breakdowns are technically my problem."

"I haven't even bound you yet!”

"Details!" Sage waved dismissively. "Look, dragon girl—can I call you Teya? I'm calling you Teya—you're having a very valid meltdown right now. Your feelings are super legitimate. But maybe, and hear me out here, maybe we don't flash-freeze our entire book cafe while processing them?"

Sage gently pushed me toward the other end of the cafe. "Scooch, gymbro. Go sit over there and just be... quiet."

"But—"

"Nope!" The fox-skull tilted. "You're making it worse just by existing in her proximity right now. Trust me on this. I may not have centuries of relationship experience, but I know when someone needs space from the object of their emotional turmoil."

I retreated to the furthest booth and sat down, watching helplessly as Sage turned back to Galateya.

The dragon girl had curled in on herself, sobbing and radiating sickly green-black colors, frost continuing to spread with each exhale. Her sobs came in hitching gasps, each one producing more frozen tears.

Sage approached slowly, hands up in a placating gesture. "Hey. Teya. Look at me."

"Leave me the fuck alone," Galateya choked out. “Just let me fucking die in peace!”

"Can't do that. I'm your Knight now, remember? Which means..." Sage sat down next to her carefully, "your problems are my problems. Your pain is my pain. That's how this works, right?"

"You don't even know me."

"True!" Sage agreed cheerfully. "But I know what it's like to feel alone in a room full of people. I know what it's like to watch everyone else connect while you're stuck behind glass, existing in a tower like a princess waiting for... Well, not a prince. I'm not that traditional, ya dig? Maybe a sexy dragon to spend my days with?"

Galateya's sobs quieted slightly. She didn't look up, but the rate of ice spread slowed.

"I've spent most of my life upstairs," Sage continued with a soft, calm voice. "Because my Phase-shift is too good at catching and keeping eyes bound. Everyone who looks at me falls a little bit... then hell-a-lot in love. Can't help it. Can't turn it off most of the time. So I stay hidden. Read books. Dance naked and play the violin on cam for cash. Watch people through windows. Watch youtube vids. Chat on the net. Imagine what it's like to have real connections that aren't based on magical roofie-ing of my Fractal Engine heart."

The frost patterns on the table began to recede slightly.

"So yeah," Sage said, her skull melting halfway back to a human, smiling face. "I don't know you yet. But I know loneliness. I know what it's like to want something real and only get shadows and echoes."

Galateya finally looked up, violet eyes meeting Sage's blue ones. The fox-girl's freckles had rearranged themselves into little hearts.

"Your face is doing a… thing," Galateya said wetly.

"A good thing I hope. It only does the text freckles when I really care about someone. Humans don't expect to see freckle emojis," Sage reached out slowly. "Can I hug you? No magic bullshit. No manipulation. Just... a hug. Because you look like you could really use one."

Galateya stared at the offered embrace. Her scales rippled uncertainly between colors—suspicious orange warring with desperate pink.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because you're sitting here crying Subzero tears in a cafe," Sage said simply. "Because your consort is half-somewhere-else fighting for his life or something. Because your great-grandmother just humiliated you with a sex timer. Because you woke up to your... uhhh?... Partners banging without you. Because you're lonely as fuck and trying so hard to pretend you're not." She paused. "Also because you're mega cute… even when you're freezing the shit outta my home. My comp upstairs is probably mining crypto extra hard ‘cus it's so cold!”

A strangled laugh-sob escaped Galateya's throat.

"There we go," Sage encouraged. "So? Hug?"

Galateya hesitated for three more heartbeats, then collapsed forward into Sage's arms. The Skinwalker caught her, holding tight as the dragon sobbed into her shoulder.

Sage held tight, one hand stroking Galateya's icy mane, the other wrapped around her shaking shoulders. The frost continued to recede from the cafe, slowly at first, then faster as Galateya's emotional state stabilized.

"That's it," Sage murmured. "Let it out. Cry it all out. Nobody's judging you here."

"I'm so pathetic," Galateya hiccupped between sobs. "Crying like a spawnling."

"Nah. You're decompressing! Elsa’s ‘Let It Go’ style. Very snowflake cape brrrr," Sage's fingers traced gentle patterns through the icy mane, which gradually softened into something more flower-like under her touch. "You've been holding this in for how long? Days? Weeks?"

"Since... since I got blood-bound to Ash," Galateya admitted. "Since I realized I was trapped in a life I didn't choose with people who don't really want me. Maybe earlier. Since I was born and got raised in a fucking time bubble and then was told to go become the Baroness of Earth."

"Okay, first off—that's objectively shitty and you have every right to be upset about it." Sage shifted, making sure Galateya was comfortable. She sent me a wink, then smiled at her sister and brother, waving at them to go away, implying that she was handling things. "Second, your great-grandma's a piece of work. Like, seriously. I've seen some controlling parents in my day, but that timer thing? That's some next-level manipulation."

Galateya let out another shuddering breath, scales gradually shifting from bruised blacks to softer grays and pinks. "She's always been like that. Doctor Iowsh's hologram raised me. Great-grandmother... She checked in once a month. Gave orders to the prad Instructors. Made sure I was developing 'correctly'."

"Yeah. That's not raising a kid, that's... quality control," Sage said, her voice carrying a flare of righteous anger. "You're not a product, Teya. You're a person."

"Tell that to the Legate," Galateya muttered bitterly, but her sobbing had mostly subsided. The frozen tears on the table began to melt, creating small puddles.

Sage pulled back slightly to look at Galateya's face. "Hey. You know what you need?"

"What?"

"To get the fuck out of this cafe." Sage grinned. "Come hunting with me. Just us and the Olympic National Forest. No timers. No great-grandmothers. No complicated relationship drama. Just... running n' hunting."

Galateya blinked. "Hunting? What are we hunting? Animals? I'm not... super into that sorta thing."

"Bahumbug! Expand your horizons! Come on, what ARE you into? Like, what makes your heart sing? What gets your scales all colorful and vibrant?"

Galateya wiped at her face, smearing the remnants of frozen tears. "I'm... I'm a Taniwha. My Omnitype is about justice. Balance. Fairness. I can sense when things are wrong, when the scales are tipped." Her voice gained strength as she spoke. "I feel most alive when I'm correcting imbalances. Fixing things that are broken. Making wrongs right."

"Okay, yeah, hunting deer for sport would be kinda... pointless for you," Sage nodded thoughtfully. "Animals aren't unjust, they're just being wild animals. No moral satisfaction in that.”

"Exactly," Galateya sighed. "So your solution to my... stress is an activity that won't even satisfy my Omnitype desire."

"Oh no no no," Sage's freckles rearranged themselves into mischievous arrows. "I never said we were hunting animals."

"Then what—"

Sage's finger extended slowly, deliberately, pointing across the cafe.

"We're hunting..." Her finger stopped at me. "...HIM," she declared with unholy glee, her face stretching into a foxish grin.

"Wait, what?" I blinked at the Skinwalker girl.

“Eh?” Galateya voiced.

"Think about it!" Sage bounced excitedly, still holding Galateya. "He's your source of personal injustice, right? He's divided. He's scheming. He's not fully present. He's got huge secrets. He's making you feel unbalanced and unfair and all those Taniwha-triggering things!"

Galateya's scales flickered with a soft orange. "I... I mean, you're not wrong..."

"So we'll hunt him!" Sage continued extra-enthusiastically. "Chase him through the forest. Make him run. Make him WORK for your attention instead of the other way around! Flip the power dynamic! Restore the balance by making HIM the prey instead of you being the desperate consort who’s constantly being ignored and getting bullied or whatevs!"

"That's..." Galateya's mane started blooming with purple lillies. "That's actually..."

"Fucking brilliant?" Sage supplied. "I know! It's the perfect Taniwha stress relief! You get to actively pursue instead of being ignored. You get to be the hunter instead of the hunted. You get to make HIM sweat for once!"

"I'm right here," I said. "I can hear you planning to hunt me."

"WE KNOW!" both girls said in unison, then looked at each other and burst into laughter.

Galateya's laugh was wet and hiccupping and… genuine. Her scales had shifted to light lavenders and soft pinks mixing with curious golds.

"Oh man, his face right now," Sage wheezed. "Priceless. Absolutely priceless.” She stared at me, eyes igniting from within. “It’ll be even more priceless when we rip you apart.”

"When you WHAT?" I stood up from the booth.

"Relax, Chadzilla," Sage waved dismissively. "We're not actually going to kill you. Probably. Maybe just maim a little?"

"A little?!"

"It's cathartic!" Sage insisted. "She needs to chase something that matters to her. You matter to her. Therefore..." She made a 'connect the dots' gesture with her hands.

"How would this even work?" The smiling Taniwha asked.

"Simple!" Sage released Galateya and stood, stretching dramatically. "We give him a head start. Say... Seven minutes? Then we shift and hunt him through the Olympic National Forest. When we catch him—and we WILL catch him because hello, immortal, half-divine shapeshifters—he has to answer one completely honest question. No schemes. No divided consciousness bullshit. Just pure, unfiltered truth."

"That's..." Galateya stood slowly, her tail uncurling. "That's actually fair. That would restore balance. Yes!"

"RIGHT?!" Sage grinned. "Plus you get to work out all that cold frustration by chasing him down like the apex predator you are!"

I looked between them. Galateya's mane and tail had gone from icicles to a garden in full bloom. Even her posture had changed, shoulders back, head high.

The emotional breakdown had completely reversed.

"You're serious about this," I said.

"As a heart attack," Sage confirmed. "Which you might have if we catch you too fast. Better do some stretches, Lord Chaddicus.”

“I can’t have the neural interface in my head damaged,” I said.

“Fine,” Sage said. “Everything else is getting ripped off then. Expect to be destroyed… and be left bruised, bitten, licked, scratched and be left in a puddle of sweat, drool and juices wearing only that headband circlet and maybe like a safety helmet. Deal?”

I stared at the two girls conspiring against me. 

Galateya's expression had shifted from despair to something predatory and hungry. Her violet eyes gleamed with an intensity I'd never seen before. The flowers in her mane bloomed in brilliant, surreal colors, textures and shapes entwining, fusing, making love. Her draconic maw spread in a wicked, wide grin.

Happy. She actually looked… happy? Holy shit. 

I’ve never seen her this happy about anything!

"Deal," I heard myself distantly say as two hundred thousand miles away, Shady and I were committing terrible crimes against the Frontenachii Dominion.