Vitaly S Alexius

Where the Dead Things Bloom [26-28]

Added 2025-04-03 18:14:17 +0000 UTC

26: Pack Power

"I don't recall inviting you to town, dog." Krysanthea added. “Hrmmmm. You look like you rolled in the dirt. Did you try to break into the restaurant?”

“I did,” Nessy growled. “Your damned sisters threw me out and threatened to slice me to bits if I came back. I’ve been pacing around the building, trying to sniff another way in.”

“Don’t think I won’t lock you up if you keep disobeying me,” Kristi said sharply at the husky. “Why must you interrupt official ranger business with your dogged clinginess?”

"Official ranger business?" Nessy echoed, her words dripping with derision. "Is that what we're calling kidnapping and dinner dates now? Real professional, your lizardness."

Krysanthea's face twitched with barely contained irritation. "You were explicitly instructed to remain at the campsite—"

"And you were explicitly told that Alec and I are a package deal," Nessy shot back, her fluffy tail bristling behind her. "Or did that detail conveniently slip your cold-blooded mind?"

“I’m warm blooded, you idiot,” The raptor's clawed hand flexed at her side. "You're really testing my patience, dog."

"And you're testing the limits of my restraint, bird! You might be warm-blooded but your soul is clearly ice-cold!”

I watched them circle each other with words, rapidly escalating beyond petty sniping. There was something primal in their postures, in the way their bodies tensed for conflict—something that transcended the civilized veneer of their human-like forms.

"You think you have some claim on him? Some special right?" Krysanthea's voice dropped to a dangerous register. "He's not even your Alec!"

"And he's not yours either!" Nessy snarled. "So back off with your fancy dresses and your ostentatious family dinners and your raptor mafia Godfather bull—"

"Enough!"

The word left my mouth with unexpected force, cutting through their argument like a blade. Both women turned to me, momentarily startled into silence by the sharpness in my voice.

"I am so fucking done with whatever this is!" I continued, each word sharp with irritation, "with being treated like a prize to be won. With being pulled in two directions by people who claim to care about me but refuse to listen to what I actually want."

Their expressions shifted almost in unison—surprise, then a flicker of shame, quickly masked. The [Y/N] System message persisted, the companion allegiance offer from Krysanthea waiting for my response, floating above her head.

In that moment of clarity, watching these two powerful women reduced to squabbling over me like children fighting over a toy, something crystallized in my mind.

"Yes," I said aloud, staring at the System’s offer of a raptor companion.

[Companion Allegiance Accepted! The Monster Slayer of Ferguson - Krysanthea Liss Strand has joined your party! Achievement Unlocked: "Double Trouble" - Successfully form bonds with two pradavarians who hate each other but want to jump your bones. Domestic complexity factor increased by 54%.]

Krysanthea's eyes widened, a smile of triumph blooming across her scaled features. Beside her, Nessy's expression crumpled, hurt and betrayal flashing across her canine face like summer lightning.

"What did you just do?" Nessy whispered, her voice cracking. "Alec, how could you...?"

"I accepted her companion allegiance," I stated simply. "Just as I accepted yours."

"BUT WHY?!" Nessy howled, the sound raw with pain.

Krysanthea, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with barely contained elation, feathers fluttering as she bounced slightly on her digitigrade feet. "Excellent decision," she declared. "The Strand family's resources and I am now at your disposal."

I turned away from both of them, walking deliberately toward the ranger cruiser parked at the curb. Reaching the vehicle, I opened the back door and turned to face them.

"In," I commanded, gesturing to the back seat. "Both of you."

They hesitated, exchanging wary glances.

"Now,” I slipped onto the back seat myself.

Something in my tone—perhaps the edge of barely suppressed fury—compelled them to comply. They approached cautiously, like animals sensing a shift in established dynamics. Krysanthea slid in first, taking the left of the back seat. Nessy followed reluctantly, sitting on my right.

"Close the door," I instructed, and the two girls complied, sealing us in the intimate confines of the vehicle.

For a moment, we sat in loaded silence. Me, feeling like a sandwich between two alien beasts. On my left, Nessy radiated hurt and confusion, her fur bristling with agitation. On my right, Krysanthea emanated smug satisfaction.

"Let me be perfectly clear," I finally said, my voice quiet but firm. "The local Alec obviously made a critical error. He ran away from a particular… situation instead of addressing it head-on. He chose one of you over the other, creating a wound that's clearly still festering years later."

I turned slightly, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "I am not him. I will not make his mistakes."

"What are you saying?" Nessy asked, her voice small. “I don’t understand. Why…”

"I'm saying that I don't belong exclusively to either of you," I replied. "I don't know either of you well enough to make that kind of commitment."

Krysanthea's satisfaction dimmed slightly. "But you accepted my allegiance offer. I saw silver letters in my eyes, just like on the day of Systemfall!”

"I did," I agreed. "Just as I accepted Nessy's pack bond. But these connections don't grant either of you ownership of me."

I leaned back against the seat, feeling the weight of their attention, their expectations. "So, instead of running from this, I'm choosing to manage it. We're going to coexist. Cooperate. Work together to protect Ferguson and complete whatever quests the System has in store."

Nessy made a small, wounded sound in her throat. "You want us to... share you?"

"I want you both to respect me enough to stop treating me like a chew toy to be won," I corrected. "I want you to acknowledge that your constant fighting is counterproductive and, frankly, exhausting for me."

"But I found you first," Nessy whispered, her voice catching on the words. "I crossed worlds to find you."

"And I've pledged my family's resources to your cause!" Krysanthea countered, though her usual confidence had muted somewhat.

"And I appreciate both of those things," I said. "But they don't entitle either of you to dictate my relationships or decisions."

I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in my shoulders gradually releasing. "We have bigger concerns than this triangle and the eternal one-upping you’re both into. Slimes in Birchwood. The safety of Ferguson. Flying monsters. The night sky being fucking purple and covered in moon bits and pieces! The System's plans for us. We need to work together, not waste energy fighting each other.”

I took an intake of air.

“I’m ordering you to stop bickering and I’m enforcing this order with whatever-the-fuck the Pack Leader skill is. You’re both in my pack now and that’s that. Deal with it. Cooperate. Respect each other!”

The silence that followed my words was so absolute that I could hear the soft rustling of Krysanthea's feathers as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"But, Alec—" Nessy began timidly. “She’s…”

“Don’t care.”

“Me? She’s the one that…” Kristi began.

“Also don’t care.”

Both of their expressions soured.

"I care about you, Nessy," I said, turning to the husky-girl. "More than I probably should after just a few days. Your loyalty, your... exuberance. The way you throw yourself completely into everything you do. It matters to me."

Her tail gave a hesitant thump against the seat, hope flickering across her features like the first ray of dawn breaking through storm clouds.

I turned to the raptor-girl next, whose amber eyes met mine with guarded calculation.

"And you," I continued. "Your determination. Your sense of duty. Your authority and strength. The way you're protecting this town, keeping it orderly and clean of Systemfall monsters. That matters too."

Her feathers rose slightly, a subtle tell of emotion I was beginning to recognize.

"But this constant competition between you is ridiculous," I said. "It's pointless. I’m not your Alec. I died yesterday falling into conceptual liminality like some sort of IRL Schrodinger's cat. So, as someone who’s at times neither alive nor dead, I choose neither of you and also both of you. Deal with it.”

The silence was deafening.

“I need friends and allies,” I said. “Not your double-shark circling around me while constantly nipping at each other. Can you give me that? Please?"

Surprisingly, it was Krysanthea who broke first.

"I... apologize," she said, the words sounding slightly wobbly, as if pulled from some rarely accessed vocabulary. "My behavior has been... unprofessional. I, erm, got too deep into my childhood rivalry with Paws, and keep falling into a particularly unsightly pattern.”

I looked at Nessy.

“You're my pack leader,” she said. “I will obey your order and try to be more tolerant of… Kristi if that is what is required of me.”

She sounded heartbroken. I sighed.

“Do you wish me to stay at my place?” She asked with the same dejected tone.

Kristi's feathers went up at this, eyes lighting up. It looked like she was definitely going to capitalize on this husky defeat, potentially by inviting herself into the RV for ‘a cup of tea’.

"No," I said firmly, looking between them. "We can all stay at the campsite. Together.”

"What?!" both pradavarians exclaimed in unison, then glared at each other for the synchronicity.

"You heard me," I continued. "If we're going to form an effective team, we need to learn to coexist. The Airstream has enough space for three people who are committed to making it work. If anything, we can put up a tent outside for Kristi connected to the entrance.”

“A tent?” The raptor sputtered. “You expect me to live in a tent?!”

“Together?!” The husky barked.

“Together,” I smiled, a devious plan forming in my head. “And if you want to keep smothering me in your husky ways, then you must offer Kristi the same as is pack tradition, Ness.”

“What?!” Nessy’s eyes widened.

“From this moment on if you want to lick my face,” I said. “You're going to have to lick Kristi's face first. In fact I will permit as many licks as you desire as long as they are given to our lick-deprived packmate first.”

Krysanthea's feathers fluttered with what might have been indignation. "That's hardly appropriate—”

“I've been putting up with her and so will you now,” I said. “Learn to win while losing.”

The girls stared at each other in abject shock for about a minute. Then something seemed to snap in Nessy. She climbed over me, tongue out.

"Don't you dare—" Krysanthea began, pressing herself against the car door as far as she could go.

"Pack tradition!" Nessy declared with manic glee, lunging forward with dog energy. "Face licks for everyone!"

What followed was a chaotic tangle of limbs, feathers, and fur as Krysanthea tried desperately to evade Nessy's determined tongue. The raptor's dignified composure shattered completely as she squawked and flailed, her scaled hands pushing at Nessy's muzzle while her tail whipped back and forth in distress.

"Get off me, you deranged, tongue-shovel canine!" she shrieked, her voice pitched higher than I'd ever heard it.

"Nope! The pack demands closeness!" Nessy replied, somehow managing to dart past Krysanthea's defenses to deliver a swift, slobbery lick across her cheek. "Mmmm, tastes like superiority complex and bird seed!"

"What?! I do NOT eat bird seed!" Krysanthea sputtered, her feathered crest fully extended in alarm.

I couldn't help it—the absurdity of the situation finally broke through my frustration, and I burst out laughing. The sight of these two formidable predators—one a serious, professional ranger in a fancy starlit dress, the other a determined husky with her tongue hanging out—locked in this ridiculous struggle was possibly the funniest and most absurd thing I'd seen since my bathtub rebirth.

"You think this is funny?!" Krysanthea demanded, still trying to fend off Nessy's advances.

"Hilarious, actually," I managed between fits of laughter.

"Ha! He laughed!" Nessy crowed triumphantly, pausing her assault momentarily. "I win this round!"

"This isn't a competition!" Krysanthea snapped, straightening her now-rumpled dress only to get face-licked again. “Staph! No! Down, you mangy beast!”

"Everything's a competition with you two," I pointed out, wiping tears of mirth from my eyes. "I've just flipped the rules to something more entertaining for me."

Nessy grinned, her canines flashing in the dim light. "I can work with these rules… I think," She turned to Krysanthea with renewed purpose. "Ready for round two, feather face?"

"Touch me again and I'll pluck every hair from your tail," the raptor threatened.

“Touch,” the husky went for a third face lick.

“Nazareth damn it, what did I just say?! What’s it gonna take for you to stop slobbering all over me?”

“Mmmm… nothing,” Nessy said. “I need to invest in more current licks for future licks.”

“What?! I’m not your lick-bank! Alec! Tell her to stop!”

“Nah.”

“What do you mean nah?! Aleeeeecccccc!”

“Pack powah!” Nessy declared, issuing a fourth lick.

"Enough!" the raptor snarled, amber eyes flashing. She grabbed onto Nessy pushing her down. I slid to the far end of the car seat, watching their power struggle with half-suppressed laughter.

Nessy, rather than being intimidated by Krysanthea's display of dominance, seemed to interpret it as an invitation to escalate. Her clawed fingers found the raptor's sides, digging in.

"What are you—" Krysanthea's indignant question transformed mid-sentence into a new sound—a strangled, undignified squawk of laughter.

"Ticklish, are we?" Nessy grinned wickedly, her blue eyes sparkling with mischievous delight as she continued her assault on Krysanthea's vulnerable sides.

"S-stop that immediately!" the raptor demanded between involuntary giggles, her scaled body twisting as she tried to escape Nessy's relentless fingers. "This is—this is beneath the dignity of—STOP! Aha-ha-ha-ha, noooo!"

"You know what they say about raptors," Nessy teased, somehow managing to find every sensitive spot with uncanny accuracy. "All prehistoric majesty until someone finds their weak spot!"

“No, how… what?! Eeeeee!”

“I’m sniffing out your weaknesses,” Nessy revealed. “With Scrutiosmia.”

“W-ha-hah-what?!”

“Magic nose.”

Their tussling intensified, a tangle of fur and feathers, scales and claws. What had begun as antagonism was transforming into something else—still competitive, still intense, but with an undercurrent of play that hadn't been there before.

"I will end you, dog!" Krysanthea threatened breathlessly, her usually immaculate feathers now completely disheveled.

"Big talk from someone who squeaks like a chew toy when tickled," Nessy retorted, dodging Krysanthea's half-hearted swipe.

The raptor finally managed to capture both of Nessy's wrists in one clawed hand, pinning them above the husky's head. "Got you!" she declared triumphantly, her chest heaving with exertion.

"Never!" Nessy declared, leaning forward to deliver a final, slobbery surprise lick directly to Krysanthea's entire snout.

The look of absolute shock on the raptor's face was priceless—eyes wide, feathers standing on end, her entire body frozen.

“You… you…” she let out indignantly, panting. “That's it! I’m going to effing kill you…”

“Stats,” I said.

Silver lines traced themselves between us in a V pattern. Numbers flashed into existence above both of the girls. Kristi’s gold-amber eyes focuses over the table above Nessy’s head.

Then, to my surprise, Krysanthea did something I wouldn't have thought possible. She laughed. Not a dignified chuckle or a sardonic snort, but a genuine, full-bodied laugh that seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep and rarely accessed.

"You know, you are the most insufferable, boundary-challenged creature I have ever encountered," she told Nessy, releasing her wrists.

"Thank you," Nessy replied proudly, as if it were the highest compliment. She slid from beneath the raptor and licked me, tail wagging.

“How do you even know how to breathe? One intelligence? Seriously, dog? I didn’t think you were that dumb.”

“Mmmm… according to the Mini-Mart Archmage, the numbahs don’t correlate to physical aspects, but soul capabilities,” Nessy pointed out.

“So your soul is stupid? That’s what you’re saying?” Kristi arched an eyebrow.

“My soul is full of caring and loyalty, you feathered menace! Have you seen your own stats?”

“My own… what… oh.”

The silver letter window slid off Kristi’s head towards her wrist.

| Name: Krysanthea Liss Strand

| Skills: [Taintsense], [Fallbeast Slayer]
| Afflictions: [Highway 69 Dungeon Soul Damage - 65 loops], [Apeirophobia]

“Level ten minus ten? So… you’re below me at level zero? Why? What’s Apeirophobia? Why are your stats so high and also iffy? What’s the Highway 69 Dungeon? How are you twenty five and twenty three?” The waterfall of questions poured out of Nessy as she too read the lines.

Krysanthea's feathers flattened against her body, her amber eyes suddenly distant. For a moment, the confident predator disappeared, replaced by something wounded and raw. Then, like a door slamming shut, her expression hardened.

"That's… classified information," she said, her voice tight.

"But—" Nessy began.

“She went looking for Alec and got stuck in a dungeon,” I said. “A highway where time is looped in two week intervals. Looks like it chewed on her for two years. Sixty five loops of two weeks each, right? That’s 130 weeks or 2.49 years. Dang.”

My words seemed to break whatever mental strength Kristi had left, snapped whatever was holding her together. The raptor-girl folded up and buried her face in her hands, trembling and suddenly looking very small.

“Hey, hey,” Nessy sat up and wrapped Kristi in her embrace. “It’s okay… Kristy. You’ll catch up to me in no time at all, I bet!”

“You went out earlier than me…. right after Systemfall when things weren't as bad,” Kristi sniffed. “You went out earlier and you actually found Alec and I got bogged down in that hellish place for so long… so very, very long…”

“Oh! We should have gone together,” Nessy said. “That way we could have found him twice as fast. We should have worked together from the start!”

“That… that’s not helping.” Kristi shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” Nessy’s hug intensified. “I’m sorry for what you had to endure all alone out there. I won’t fight you anymore! Alec has chosen both of us as his pack! I’ll help you with whatever this soul-damage is, however I can… promise, promise!”

"I'd rather not discuss my... condition or the highway," Krysanthea said after a moment, blinking tears out of her eyes. "Especially not here… where someone I know might come out and see me like this… please let go… so I can drive us… to the park.”

Nessy let go of the raptor-girl. Krysanthea wiped her face with a feathery elbow and readjusted her face back to the stern officer. She opened the door and sat in the front. The car took off before we could even buckle ourselves, racing out of the restaurant parking lot towards the forest.

. . .

As we drove back through Ferguson's darkened streets, I couldn't shake the image of Krysanthea's stats from my mind. It seems that dungeons fed on levels and skills, gradually devoured human souls. I would have to approach the local dungeon very carefully in that case, make sure not to get stuck inside.

The silence in the car wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. It was the silence of people processing, adjusting, recalibrating their understanding of one another.

Beside me, Nessy's paw found my hand, her claws gentle against my skin. Her blue eyes carried questioning concerns. I squeezed her hand in silent reassurance and she leaned against me with a soft exhale.

In the rearview mirror, Krysanthea's amber eyes flickered briefly to us, but she said nothing. Her gaze returned to the road, her profile illuminated by violet, alien starlight as we left the town behind, heading up the winding valley road and toward the waiting Airstream.

27: Unity

The Airstream gleamed under the strange violet starlight as we returned to the campsite. The aluminum exterior caught and reflected the alien sky, making the trailer appear as if it were made of liquid silver—something otherworldly and ethereal rather than the mundane relic of my grandfather's life it actually was.

Krysanthea parked the ranger vehicle, killed the engine, and sat motionless for a long moment. Her scaled hands remained on the steering wheel, knuckles tense with tension. The confident, authoritative ranger who had whisked me away to dinner seemed to have vanished almost entirely now.

"I need a minute," she said, her voice barely audible. "Go ahead inside."

Nessy and I exchanged another glance. Wordlessly, she squeezed my hand, her message clear: Let's give her space.

We stepped out into the night air, leaving Krysanthea alone with her thoughts. The forest around us was alive with sound—crickets chirping, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant call of some night bird. Normal sounds. Familiar sounds. A stark contrast to the cosmic strangeness of the purple sky above.

Inside the Airstream, the warmth was immediate and welcome after the night's chill. The rangers had connected the RV to an electrical line and a propane tank. Per the clicks of switches, lightbulbs ignited across the interior bathing it in warm light. Nessy moved to the small kitchenette, filling a kettle with water and setting it on the propane stove.

"Tea," she explained, catching my questioning look. "For shock. And... other things."

"You think tea will help?" I asked, settling onto the bench seat by the fold-down table.

"Not really," she admitted, her ears drooping slightly. "But it gives me something to do with my hands while I figure out what will." Her tail swished anxiously behind her. "I never thought... I mean, she was always so perfect. So untouchable. It never occurred to me that she might be..."

“Hurt?" I suggested.

Nessy nodded, her expression troubled. "Yeah. Those stats… that’s tough."

I nodded.

“I feel hell-a-stupid now,” She shuddered visibly. "I've been competing with a ghost, fighting someone who’s hurting so much.”

Through the Airstream's window, I could see Krysanthea still sitting in the vehicle, her silhouette motionless against the dashboard lights. There was something profoundly lonely about the image—this predator, this protector, isolated by a looped-time experience none of us could truly understand.

In a few more minutes, the door to the ranger vehicle finally opened. Krysanthea emerged. She had composed her features into a mask of professional detachment.

The kettle whistled, startling us both. Nessy hurried to remove it from the heat, preparing three mugs of tea. By the time Krysanthea reached the Airstream's door, the husky was ready, a steaming mug extended in offering.

"Tea?" Nessy asked.

Krysanthea paused at the threshold, amber eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion at this unexpected kindness. After a moment's hesitation, she accepted the mug with a nod of thanks, her clawed fingers wrapping around the ceramic.

"I..." she began, then stopped, seeming to struggle with words. "I would prefer… if you didn't discuss what the System revealed to anyone outside our trio."

"Of course," Nessy said immediately, ears flattening in sympathy.

An awkward silence settled over the Airstream. Krysanthea sat onto the leather bench across from me, her body language guarded. Nessy fidgeted by the kitchenette, clearly torn between her natural impulse to comfort and her uncertainty about how to approach this new, vulnerable version of her longtime rival.

Finally, it was Krysanthea who broke the silence.

"I should… drive to the ranger station… get and set up the tent," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "It's getting late."

"You don't have to sleep outside," I said. "There's room for you in here."

A ghost of her usual sardonic expression flickered across her features. "The Airstream is designed for two at most, and that's assuming they're comfortable with close quarters." She gestured vaguely at the limited space. "Three would be... excessive."

"We'll totes make it work!" Nessy declared suddenly, her tail giving a tentative wag. "The bed can be expanded. I saw the mechanism earlier while cleaning. And I don't mind sleeping on the floor if necessary."

Surprise flashed across Krysanthea's face at the offer. "Why would you—"

"Because that's what packmates do," Nessy interrupted, voice filled with warm conviction to the brim. "They look out for each other. Even when it's inconvenient. Especially when it's inconvenient!”

Something shifted in Krysanthea's posture then—confusion and an almost imperceptible lowering of her guard. She set her barely-touched tea on the table and exhaled slowly, her feathers settling against her body.

"I appreciate the offer," she said, the words sounding strange and formal on her tongue. "But I think I need some time alone. To... process my stats…"

She turned to leave, but Nessy moved with surprising speed, intercepting her at the door.

"Nope," the husky said, planting herself firmly in the raptor's path. "No more alone. That's not how this works."

"I don’t think that you get it—”

"You're right, I don't get it," Nessy admitted. "I can't possibly understand what you went through out there, all alone for so long. But I know what it's like to lose someone. To feel like part of you is missing." Her blue eyes held Krysanthea's amber ones. "And I know that being alone with those feelings doesn't help. It just gives them more space to echo. I’ve been separated from Alec for four years. You’ve been separated from him for two and a half years. It won’t help to add more time alone to that. Both of us have been alone long enough.”

For a moment, I thought Krysanthea might simply push past Nessy—assert her physical superiority and retreat away. But something in the husky's earnest expression seemed to reach her.

“He’s not our Alec,” Kristi said.

“He is,” Nessy insisted. “Right, Alec?”

“At this point, I’m not really sure,” I confessed. “I got another weird memory flash in the restaurant. I… remembered your sister, Katerina, threatening me into no longer hanging out with Nessy because I danced with you at the formal.”

“That bitch!” Nessy growled. “Sorry, I know she’s your sister and all… but what the fuck?!”

“Kat was always very protective of the family,” Kristi sighed. “She takes her words too far sometimes. I can… tell her to bring it down a notch.”

“Thank you,” Nessy said. “If we’re gonna be Alec’s packmates we should do our best to reduce his stress levels, not raise them.”

Kristi let out another weary sigh, sitting back down onto the bench. The silence between us stretched on, taut and awkward.

Then, perhaps sensing that words alone wouldn't bridge this gap, Nessy dug into a pile of sorted things and pulled out an old guitar belonging to my grandfather. She turned it for a bit then her fluffy hands struck the strings and both of our eyes snapped to her, drawn by the chords that had an inexplicable weight to them, her voice resonant and clear as if amplified to concert-levels by the metal interior of the RV.

"Ho-owoo-oo-oo-owa!
Ho-owoo-oo-oo-owa!”

Highway loops can't hold you down,
Soul damage can't make you drown!
With every step and every breath,
We'll fight together beyond death!”

Nessy sang, strumming and tapping her feet against the floor, some of the lyrics echoing unnaturally across the RV’s interior. Kristi’s eyes went wide.

“Ho-owoo-oo-oo-owa!

Twisted time and dungeon days,
Breaking souls in countless ways!
Feathers dulled and courage drained,
But still this raptor's heart remained!

Whoa-oh-owooooo! Oh yea!

Pack of three against the tide,
Husky nose and raptor sight!
No matter what the System breaks,
We'll stand together, come what may!”

The music filled the small space of the Airstream, wrapping around us like a tangible, albeit invisible, warm blanket. I watched as Krysanthea's rigid posture vanished, her shoulders lowering incrementally with each verse. Her amber eyes closed, feathers rising and falling with her breathing as she seemed to let the music wash over her.

“Whoa-oh-owooooo!

Prowling time and twisted things,
Can't touch what our bond brings!
I howl a promise to the sky above,
Scales, skin and fur united as one!

Yeah-yeah! Yeah-yeah!

A leader reborn from bathtub gloom,
Our anchor through the Systemfall doom!
With fangs and claws we'll guard his back,
The strongest, fiercest, wildest pack!

Pack of three against the tide,
Husky nose and raptor sight!
No matter what the System breaks,
We'll stand together, come what may!”

Krysanthea smiled, glancing at me. ‘What the fuck’ her expression said. ‘How’s she doing that?’

“Whoa-oh-owooooo!

Raptor brave with broken soul,
We'll help you heal and make you whole!
Rivals once but packmates now,
This is my solemn, sacred vow!

Pack of three against the tide,
Husky nose and raptor sight!
No matter what the System breaks,
We'll stand together, come what may!

Ho-owoo-oo-oo-owa! Yeah, yeah!”

“What in the Slayer’s name?!” Kristi sputtered as Nessy strummed the final chord and fell silent. “You couldn’t have composed that just now… right?!

“I did,” Nessy grinned.

“HOW?!”

“Magic!” Nessy waved her hands in the spongebob-imagination meme format.

“That… that doesn’t explain shit!”

“Fine, fine,” Nessy huffed. “I practiced singing for four years so that I could impress Alec when he returned from university. Plus the System blessed me with… Riffweld Skill! It's like the songs just pour out of me when I’m with my pack! Like they were already written somewhere in my soul and I'm just... channeling them. Pretty neat, right?"

Krysanthea stared at the husky with barely concealed envy. "So while I was getting my soul chewed on by a time loop, you were developing supernatural musical abilities?" She shook her head in disbelief. "The System has a strange sense of humor."

"Sorry," Nessy said, her ears drooping slightly. "I didn't mean to—I mean, that song was for you! I wanted to make you smile!”

"No," Krysanthea interrupted, raising a scaled hand. "It was... beautiful. Surprisingly so." She stretched. "You have a gift. An actual, meaningful gift. A musical talent amplified by Systemfall. I've never thought that something like that would be possible. Not corruption or madness, but… rhyme, beauty.”

Nessy's tail began wagging hesitantly. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you. An actual complement from you! Yay!”

She high fived me.

"She never praises anyone unless they absolutely deserve it," Nessy ranted at me. "Impossible standards, no participation trophies from Krysanthea Liss Strand. No siree!”

A small smile quirked at the corner of Krysanthea's snout. "Some things haven't changed, I suppose."

The tension between them had transformed into something different—not quite friendship, but no longer the bristling antagonism of earlier. It felt like a truce, fragile and new.

"So," Krysanthea said. "Who’s sleeping where?"

Nessy's ears perked up, her tail wagging with renewed vigor. "I'll figure it out! I'm an expert nest-builder!”

The velociraptor raised an eyebrow, but Nessy already took off, tail wagging like a helicopter, almost smacking into everything nearby.

She pulled hidden levers and compartments, expanding the bed platform to nearly twice its original size. Blankets and pillows which she apparently fetched from her place earlier became arranged with meticulous care, fluffed and positioned according to some internal logic only Nessy understood.

“Dang, she’s really going at it,” Kristi commented, nursing her tea.

“Yep,” I nodded from my seat across from her.

28: Apeirophobia

The raptor pulled out her phone from her belt and scrolled through it, seemingly going over her schedule as Nessy fluttered about like a fluffy hurricane. A tablet appeared in my hands courtesy of Nessy. I began to browse the net, watching more historic videos of pradavarians.

“Hey how come the net works after Systemfall?” I asked Kristi.

“Hell if I know,” the raptor shrugged. “It really shouldn’t considering how iffy stuff is outside of Ferguson. Yet it does. It’s like… a weirdly half-broken version of the net though that only works on some devices like that tablet. Telegram sometimes works as long as you stay in Ferguson. Sometimes messages and videos do come from the outside. Not good ones. Corrupt gibberish and screams mostly. See?”

She pointed at the latest comments under the pradavarian world war 2 footage I was looking at. “Absolute gibberish. Nonsensical symbols from profiles with images that look like they were generated by a really bad AI model.”

“Hrm,” I said, checking one of the post-Systemfall profiles that made a comment. “Yeah. Pretty freaky. Kinda like dead internet theory… except these are probably actual dead people leaving comments, not AIs.”

"Ta-da!" Nessy announced finally, gesturing to her creation with flourish. "The ultimate pack nest! Room for everyone!"

Krysanthea eyed the arrangement skeptically. "It's still going to be... intimate."

"Well, yeah," Nessy agreed, unbothered by this observation. "That's kind of the point of a pack nest. Warmth, security, togetherness."

"I'm not used to... togetherness," Krysanthea admitted. “Especially… with you, Paws.”

“Can’t help not being me,” Nessy shrugged. “N’ways, baby steps! I've positioned your nest at the edge where you can escape if you need to, right by the door. Alec in the middle because he's squishy and needs the most protection against possible hungry entities. I’m on the window side because I'm the warmest, plus I can take point guard if danger approaches. It's optimal defensive positioning, see?”

I couldn't help but laugh at her tactical approach to sleeping arrangements. "You've really thought this through."

"Pack security is no laughing matter," Nessy insisted, though her ears and face twitched with amusement.

As we prepared for bed, I noticed Krysanthea's discomfort growing. She stood awkwardly by the expanded sleeping platform, still dressed in her formal dark dress, clearly uncertain about how to proceed.

"Uhm. I don't have..." she began, gesturing vaguely at her attire. “I should…”

"Oh! Night clothes!" Nessy exclaimed, diving into her duffel bag. She emerged with what appeared to be an oversized t-shirt with a paw print shaped like a heart on it and PJ shorts. "Here. More comfortable than fancy wear!”

Krysanthea accepted the offered garment with visible reluctance and vanished into the small bathroom. Nessy changed right in front of me as per usual, not bothering to hide anything.

When Krysanthea emerged several minutes later, the transformation was striking. Without her formal dress, wearing Nessy's shirt and shorts she looked younger, more vulnerable. The oversized shirt hung loosely on her frame.

Nessy had already arranged herself at one end of the expanded bed in pink pyjamas. She patted the middle section invitingly, her blue eyes bright with anticipation.

"Come on, packmates! S’ slumber time!"

I climbed in, settling into the middle position.

Krysanthea approached with visible trepidation, perching on the very edge of the sleeping platform as if prepared to flee at any moment. Slowly, with obvious reluctance, she lowered herself fully onto the bed, maintaining as much distance from me as the limited space allowed.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, though there was less bite in her voice than I expected.

"Shush. It's cozy," Nessy corrected from my other side, already snuggling against me. "Now go to sleep, lizard."

"I am not a lizard, I'm a—"

"Shh," Nessy interrupted. "Arguments tomorrow. Rest thoughts only now."

To my surprise, Krysanthea fell silent, though I could feel the tension radiating from her body. She lay rigid beside me, careful not to let any part of her touch me, while on my other side, Nessy had no such reservations, wrapping herself around me like a fuzzy, warm blanket.

As the minutes ticked by, I felt Nessy's breathing slow and deepen as she drifted into sleep, her nose pressed against my neck, arm draped across my chest. Occasionally, her paws would twitch slightly, chasing something in her dreams.

Beside me, Krysanthea remained awake, her amber eyes reflecting the faint moonlight that filtered through the Airstream's small windows. I could sense her watching us, studying Nessy's comfortable abandon.

"You can relax, you know," I whispered, careful not to wake the sleeping husky. "She doesn't bite. At least, not while sleeping."

Krysanthea's eyes met mine in the darkness. "I've been on high alert for so long," she confessed, her voice barely audible. "I'm not sure I remember how to... let down my guard."

"We're in your territory, in your town, surrounded by your family's influence," I pointed. "If there was ever a safe place to try, it's here."

“I know,” she said. “Still weird. Why have you done this, Alec?”

"Because division makes us vulnerable," I answered. "You, me, Nessy—we're all fragments of something broken. Different kinds of broken, but broken nonetheless." I gestured vaguely toward the strange, violet sky beyond the window. "Out there, nothing makes sense anymore. Reality itself is coming apart at the seams."

Kristi seemed to consider my words.

"But in here," I continued, "we have a chance to create something whole. Something stronger than our individual… brokenness."

A small, almost imperceptible shudder ran through her. "I've spent two years killing monsters to survive," she murmured. "Two years driving along the same endless road. And now..."

"Now you're sharing a bed with Systemfall corruption incarnate," I finished for her.

Her eyes widened slightly. "I didn't—"

"It's okay," I reassured her. "I know what I am. Or rather, what I'm not.”

“I was going to say now I’m trying to find a semblance of normality. To rebuild my life in Fergus… I haven’t really told anyone about highway 69 being infinite except for you. I just told my family that it's insanely dangerous and that nobody should drive out there unless they wish a swift death. It’s not death out there though. It’s limitlessness. Paradoxical, only slightly finite, specific infinity. The kind that grinds your mind and soul to nothing.”

I nodded, considering what it was like for her.

Nessy made a small sound in her sleep, her arm tightening around me, her nose pressing closer as if even unconscious, she sought to protect me from dark thoughts.

"She loves you," Krysanthea observed, something between envy and wonder threading through her. "Not just the idea of you, or the memory of someone who wore your face. But you, as you are now."

"She barely knows me,” I pointed out.

"Does that matter?" The raptor said. "Maybe in a world gone mad, instant devotion is the sanest response. I do have to admit if it wasn’t for her rabid devotion, you wouldn’t be here… and…”

I absently ran my fingers through Nessy's fur. The husky responded with a contented sigh, her tail thumping once against the mattress.

“...and I’d still be feeling utterly hollow while pretending that I’m perfectly fine,” Kristi said. “The stats have finally defined, tabulated exactly how I feel.”

“So the pack bond is helping?” I asked.

“I guess? It’s weird, but her song somehow made me less empty,” Kristi revealed. “Plus having you back home is nice. Even if you’re not… the boy I lost. I’m sorry. This whole evening, it was me just running through the motions of what I once was, pretending to be alive when I’m effed up to all hell. Annoying Nessy, stealing you away, showing you off to my family as a heroic survivor. Pointless posturing…”

“And the declaration of companionship?” I asked. “Was that posturing too?”

“Maybe,” Kristi shrugged. “Posturing of a different sort. Looking for a way out. Anything to keep the nightmares away, really.”

“Nightmares?”

“Honestly I’m fucking terrified of falling asleep,” she confessed. “Terrified of waking up on that highway again, my hands on the wheel. Terrified that the highway will stretch itself into Feguson, devour this valley… reach out and find me and never let me go. Mentally I’m still mostly out there, on that unending road…”

“Hang on,” I said. “How long have you been back in Ferguson?”

“Just three days,” she revealed.

“And have you slept?”

“Barely. I’ve been existing on raptor microsleep,” she confessed. “I’m coming apart at the seams. I'm so tired. So very, very tired. Yet I can’t… or perhaps simply don’t know how to relax anymore.”

"You can't keep going like this," I said softly. "You need real sleep."

Krysanthea gave a small, bitter laugh. "I know. But knowing and doing are different monsters to slay."

I hesitated for a moment, then made a decision. Without overthinking it, I extended my arm toward her—a simple, wordless invitation.

"What are you doing?" she whispered warily.

"Offering support," I replied. "No strings, no expectations. Just... an offer of safety, if you want it—hold onto my hand."

She stared at my outstretched arm as if it were something alien and incomprehensible. For a long moment, I thought she would refuse—retreat back into her carefully maintained isolation, her cultivated distance.

Then, with the delicate uncertainty of someone approaching a precipice, she inched closer.

The first contact was tentative—her scaled shoulder barely brushing against my side. I remained still, letting her set the pace, define the boundaries. Gradually, incrementally, she allowed herself to lean into the contact, her body yielding to exhaustion one muscle at a time.

"I can't remember the last time someone touched me without trying to tear me apart," she murmured, her voice holding a fragility I'd never heard before.

"You're safe here," I promised.

Nessy shifted in her sleep, unconsciously making room as Krysanthea moved closer. The husky's arm remained draped across my chest, her presence steady and warm on one side, while the raptor's cooler, scaled form pressed hesitantly against my other.

Slowly, with the gradual surrender of someone fighting a losing battle, Krysanthea's head came to rest against my shoulder. Her feathers tickled my neck, her breathing beginning to deepen and slow.

"What if I dream of the highway?" she whispered, her voice already growing distant with approaching sleep.

"Then you'll wake up here," I replied simply. "With us. Safe. In our domain. This RV. The highway can’t get you here. This is our place. I learned this from the Mini-Mart Archmage. You just have to believe in a place and it will believe in you, come alive in a way… protect you.”

Her scaled hand found mine in the darkness, her grip surprisingly gentle despite the lethal potential of her claws. Without words, she conveyed what pride would never let her say aloud—her gratitude, her vulnerability, her tentative trust.

As sleep finally claimed her, I felt the precise moment her body fully surrendered to exhaustion. The weight against my shoulder grew heavier, her breathing evening out into the steady rhythm of deep rest. Her feathers settled, her tail curled slightly against my leg.

I lay awake between them for a while longer—the husky and the raptor, two broken pieces of a world I'd never known, a shard of it somehow entrusted to my care. One clinging to me with dogged devotion, the other tentatively accepting comfort from someone who wore the face of her lost love.