Insert Indefinitely Postponed End of Season Finale Here

Chapter 3: Then You Show Your Little Light

The healer's quarters smelt of a strange mixture of brass polish and disinfectant. Adrian fought his gag reflex – he got enough of that with fur balls, thank you very much.

The wooden floorboards did not utter a sound beneath his paws, and he caught sight of his reflection in a tall, brass instrument. It shouldn't have been possible for the bronze colour to make a cat look washed out and exhausted, but somehow it had managed it.

He had been a fool to stay. He should have left the fandom as soon as he had entered. But he had allowed himself to get drawn in, and become attached to the characters – to his past self, so hopeful and naïve. Now he was in too deep to even contemplate bailing. He had to know the outcome – whatever the cost. He had to know what it was that made him who he was.

But more than that, he had grown emotionally fond of them. Not his past self – he, Adrian the Librarian. He liked each and every one of them as a person, and it had nothing to do with the relationships that they all had with Aide. He wanted them to be okay. They had to be okay...

A dark wooden door swung open at the end of the corridor, and Duncan appeared, his eyes rimmed with pink. Opposite him, Pieter and Aide sat, though only the former raised a head to look at him. Crouching behind a dented tank of oxygen, Adrian peered at the small, broken group of friends.

"She won't talk," Duncan's voice was thick, but it was impossible to tell if it was pain or anger. "She's just staring at the ceiling."

"I told you," Aide did not sound as though he were completely aware of everything around him.

"It's not right!" Duncan was pacing now, his fists clenched to one side. "She's not supposed to be like this! She's not supposed to be…" whatever it was he was going to say escaped him.

"What does the healer say?" Pieter's voice was the calmest, but there was still a tightness to it that Adrian had never heard.

Duncan shrugged. "Same as they told Aide – she needs rest while the transfusion finishes. That doesn't fix her though, does it? Doesn't make what's wrong with her right again!"

"It's not something they can fix," seeing the footsteps turn into stamps, Pieter's tone became more calming. "The healers can heal her body, but this is in her mind. It's the mind that makes you want to do something…like this."

None of them were saying it, Adrian realised. And he doubted that they ever would.

"It's that temple," Duncan was growling. "Ever since she went there she hasn't been right. Barely speaks to us, and always being sad-"

"It's not the temple," shoulders hunched over with arms resting on his knees, Aide finally spoke up properly. Feeling two sets of eyes on him, his head dropped back down to face the floor. "Not completely…"

He chewed his lip. If he had had kitty ears at this stage in his life, Adrian knew he would have been flattening them right to his head, because he knew what reaction he was going to get, and he was not anticipating happiness at the end of it.

"What is it?" Duncan asked, tone half hopeful half accusing. "What has she told you?"

Sighing heavily, Aide squeezed his hands together. "She's been having visions."

"Well that was obvious!" Duncan interrupted, throwing his hands up into the air. "Look at her eyes! Black as onyx!"

Aide held up his own hand, and his friend fell obediently silent. "No, I mean she's been having them for years…since we were fifteen. They're from Una – something big is coming for Patrice, and all Kay can see out of it is death. That's why she's so upset."

Pieter was silent – Adrian could practically see the deductions coming together in his head, and the understanding being bridged between seemingly random pieces of information. Duncan however, was far more vocal.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" he was yelling now, drawing some nasty looks from the orderlies down the corridor. "Didn't you think this was something we should know?!"

Aide's gloomy tone suddenly became sharp and angry. "No Duncan, because frankly, it's none of your business what Kay chooses to confide in me."

"I'm her friend too, you know!" the other boy shouted. No one bothered to point out the erroneous word in that statement, because they were all aware that Duncan saw himself as far more than that.

"I never said you weren't her friend," Aide did not shout as Duncan was, but the undercurrent of anger had not gone anywhere. "And neither did she."

"Then why didn't she say anything to me?!" Duncan fumed. "Why did she come sharing her secrets with you, and only you?"

"I have no idea!" Aide finally raised his voice, along with his hands, but it bordered on despair than anger. "Maybe because she knew you'd react like this?!"

"Alright, both of you shut it!" Pieter finally stopped thinking the revelation over to intervene – just as well too, for Duncan looked about ready to punch his best friend in the face. "That's not what's important right now."

Duncan clearly disagreed, but the matron chose this moment to walk past, and hissed at them sternly to be quiet. All three boys bowed their heads in contrition.

"What's important right now is helping Kay," Pieter continued, in a more sensible tone of voice.

"And how do you propose we do that?" Aide snapped, his temper still on edge.

"By supporting her through this," Pieter said. "As best we can. By listening and understanding. That's all we can really do. The stuff in her head…that's probably something she'll have to sort out herself."

"She could leave the temple," Duncan put in. Behind his oxygen tank, Adrian rolled his eyes. Talk about a one track mind.

"That wouldn't work," Pieter said instantly. "The visions won't stop coming just because she's not in the temple – Una has chosen her."

"Well Una can un-choose her right now!" were Duncan a younger man, he probably would have stomped his foot. "She is going to leave the temple and then she'll be happy!"

He stormed off down the corridor, sending the door slamming into a helpless junior healer, who crashed painfully into the wall. He did not stop to help her up. Aide's head sank back down into his hands, and fingers began agitatedly combing his messy hair.

"…he's an idiot," Pieter summarised, getting up from his seat and pacing to the opposite side of the corridor. He slid against the wall next to Kay's door and stood there, propped up with one leg. "What does he think he's going to do? Walk into the temple and tell them she's leaving because he says so?"

There was a long silence, before the young ranger groaned, his head thumping painfully against the wall.

"He's going to walk into the temple and tell them that she's leaving because he says so, isn't he?"

"The temple's not the problem," Aide said quietly.

"No duh! But try telling him that!"

"No, don't you see?" Aide's voice was sharp now. "It's not the visions that's the problem. It's what she's getting them about. All this," he jerked his head towards the door. "Is because of what's going on out there."

Seeing Pieter frown, the city guard let out a frustrated growl.

"The war, Pieter! That's what she's getting visions of. All those refugees pouring into the city – she's seeing every one of them lose loved ones. She's the one watching towns get flattened, and gods slaughtering people for kicks!"

"Yeah I got that," Pieter said slowly. "But…what are you saying?"

It wasn't really a question. Pieter clearly knew exactly where his friend was going with this, but he was clinging to some vague hope that he might be wrong – that Aide might be suggesting something far less drastic.

"I'm saying, that if we want Kay to be happy again, then we need to stop the war," Aide said. From anyone else it might have sounded like such a stupid statement, but Adrian had been watching Aide for a long time now, and he had never sounded more serious. "And there's a way to do that – to stop the Gods from making anyone else die."

There was a long, heavy silence. Behind the tank, Adrian felt his heart beating hard in his chest. He wanted to do so many things. Scream at Aide to do it. Scream at Aide not to do it. Find a way to do it himself. Go in and see Kay, to make sure she was recovering, and to try and get that awful memory of her bleeding into the water out of his head…

"Aide," Pieter finally spoke – he was barely whispering. "That's-"

"Don't!" the young man snarled. "Don't tell me that I'm being crazy. I haven't been more sane in my life. I saw my oldest friend dying today, Pieter, so don't you dare tell me that I'm crazy! I'm never going to stop seeing that – do you have any idea what it was like to walk into that bathroom and see her there? The water was going red, Pieter! It was her blood, and there was nothing I could do…nothing…"

Whatever paralysis had held the tears in suddenly seemed to break, and Aide crumpled forwards into his knees, his shoulders shaking. Adrian swallowed hard, as he realised that his own eyes were swimming. Awkwardly, Pieter walked over and patted him on the shoulder.

"This isn't your responsibility to fix," Pieter whispered. "Please tell me that you understand that?"

"Of course I do," Aide whispered. "But this isn't about responsibility. This is for Kay. Only for her. She says she's seen death – well now so have I. And I don't want to see it again."

"Yeah, but…" Pieter sounded hopeless in the face of such blind logic. "To do that…fighting Gods, and stopping death – you'd be getting hurt. Seriously hurt. You'd be screwing with your lifespan. And that's if you survive the initiation! Una's graces everyone's heard the stories!" He desperately searched for some kind of reason in his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry Aide, but it's stupid."

"It's not stupid!" Aide snapped. "Don't you get it?! Kay's visions stop when the war stops! And we're not going to stop it by guarding the city and splitting up squabbling refugees! She's my friend, and I am going to help her – and I know a better way to do it than by trying to get her to leave the temple! If the fighting stops in the kingdom, then Una has no reason to send any more visions, and Kay gets better. So that's what I'll do – become a Blade Dancer so I can stop the war and the visions!"

That statement, for all it's grand promise, sounded unfinished, and Adrian's body went cold as he realised that he knew just what was running through his past self's mind – though he would never be stupid enough to admit it aloud. To do so would spell certain death.

"And if I can't stop the war…then I will stop Una herself."

OOO

When your arms were pinned to your side by a powerful embrace, and your kicking had proved inefficient, there was only one option left.

So it was with a smirk of pleasure that Tash yanked a plothole into existence at point blank, sending herself and Purity tumbling ungracefully through it half way through the second wave of feminism and the modern classical literature wing. They impacted into tarmac with identical crunches of bones.

"Jesus barrel-rolling Christ…" Tash groaned, smacking the white wing draped casually over her body away. Dark sky met her gaze, with skyscrapers encroaching at the sides of her vision. She could be in any fandom in the multiverse – she had not exactly been paying attention when she had pulled the plothole into existence. She rolled onto her feet, hoping for some kind of sign as to where she had landed. Her head was swimming a bit from the impact, but nothing felt broken, apart from most of the skin on her shoulder blades and the back of her dress.

"Language!" The furious angel scolded, rising to his own feet, his wings still flaring dramatically behind him. The leader scoffed at his reprimand, putting a few more cautious steps between her and the Sovereign. She added two more as she got a proper look at his face.

"Well, you look terrible," she concluded. Her balance wavered as she realised that she could step no further back without going off the edge of the building.

"After two long years of waiting," Purity's voice had a hiss to it. "You have finally come back to me for one last fight. And when I win, you and your magic will stay with me forever!"

His eyes rose rapturously to the heavens, before falling back on the Society leader.

"…give it a rest."

The angel blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Seriously," Tash folded her arms. "Did you take your lines from TVTropes? You couldn't be more cliché if you had a black cape to swish."

She changed her stance, her hands falling on her hips.

"Let me explain how this is actually going to work, Purity," she said. "I'm not in the mood to deal with an annoying subplot right now – especially one like you that makes no sense what so ever. So I'm going to leave you here, go back to the Library, and get back to the actual plot that's been waiting for us for two years."

The angel was flabbergasted. "You can't do that!" he spluttered.

He got a shrug in response. "Why not? Seriously, what is physically stopping me from opening a plothole and leaving this fandom? Maybe picking up a sandwich on the way?" she waved her arms around at the jungle of skyscrapers.

"I am!" the angel seemed to be getting pinker by the second. The leader groaned, and gripped handfuls of her hair.

"No, you're really not," she said. "I guess you were supposed to go after me because I'm one of the leaders – maybe in the hopes that I'd gain some sort of personal character development from fighting you. But I'm not scared of you any more – I stopped projecting my personal fears onto you a few stories back, and without that, you're just a character who wants something from me. And people like that are actually pretty easy to deal with – by turning and walking away."

She spun on her heel, standing poised on the edge of the building. "So this is me, walking away. Bye Purity!"

She stepped cheerfully forward, and plummeted towards the ground. Two stories from the ground, her wings unfolded, and caught the updraft. She soared down two streets before coming to a rest in a quiet alleyway.

"That was so meta," she muttered, lifting her fingers to snap a plothole into existence.

A dustbin crashed into her back and she stumbled forwards into the concrete. Above her the furious angel loomed.

"You don't get to decide when this conflict is over!" he hissed, another dustbin raised in one hand, ice slowly creeping its way over it. "And we are far from over, Phoenix!"

The bin crashed into the ground, sending shards of ice flying, as fire wreathed the alleyway like a furious serpent.

OOO

"Hey!"

Resolve froze mid punch, leaving the poor Library bookcase to slump weakly to the floor. Emily glared at the Sovereign.

"We own doorbells you know!" she shouted. Part of her wondered at the wisdom of antagonizing a being of potentially limitless strength, but it was smothered by anger. She was exhausted. She was covered in blood and bits of what used to be Creation. Her palm was throbbing with every twitch of her hand. And now that they were finally back in the Library after two years of running for their lives, this fucker had the nerve to come into their home and break holes in their fucking wall? She was livid!

The Sovereign rose, gauntlets fully charged, and coming to rest at his side as he eyed up the new arrival.

"You really don't want to get in my way, girl," he warned. Emily wavered for just a moment - after all, he was a Sovereign. Then her eyes fell on the rubble on the other side of the gaping hole in the wall, chunks of concrete and plaster dotted with pale blues and greens. She knew those colours. She had spent hours painting that fresco in meticulous detail.

Her blood boiled.

"Oh it is on!"

Resolve slid effortlessly into combat stance, gauntlets charged and glowing with energy he had gained from pounding at the Library's defenceless walls.

Emily reached behind her back...only to grasp at air where her supersoaker should have been. Realization hit like a splash, instantly cooling her anger.

"Oooh that's right..." She muttered nervously. "Divinity...yeah..."

She did not bother waiting for a second to allow her situation to sink in. Instead she turned on her heel and fled, a cloud of rubble billowing out behind her with a crash.

OOO

"Stop running, you giant pansy!"

"I'm not running! I'm advancing in another direction!"

A flying bookcase almost put a premature end to the conversation.

"I think we used that joke already, host."

"YOU CALL THIS A FUCKING JOKE?!"

Michael had to give the Darkness credit – he did not feel nearly as overwhelmed and panicky as he should have, with a misanthropic voice in his head keeping him distracted. That did not stop him from screaming, however. A tentacle snaked out behind him, hissing as it came too close to a wall lamp, and slammed a door closed behind him.

"Sure, shut the doors! That'll keep her out!" Michael exclaimed, bending double over the staircase banister for a second to catch his breath.

"It won't," the Darkness chose to ignore his sarcasm. "Which means you need another plan – quick sharp. And turn the lights off! This is a stairwell – not a tanning bed!"

The nearest light switch was on the opposite side of the rectangular stairwell. Michael had just a second to consider barricading the door with a nearby bench, before it exploded outwards into splinters. The agent shielded his eyes as paper and wood fluttered down around him.

"Heeeere's Lifey!" the Sovereign chanted, her strings reaching out to snare the bench.

"Kyaa~ Here's Aster!"

Michael had just enough time to throw himself out of the way before a pillar of ice shot out of the floor and punched Life back into the dark corridor.

"Aster?" Michael whirled to see the fae hovering in the middle off the stairwell, her staff resting casually behind her back. "What the hell are you doing here?! You're supposed to be watching the other agents!"

The blue haired girl shrugged. "I got bored," she said, brushing imaginary dirt of the end of her staff. "Followed the explosions. Hey, were you running from her?"

"Yes – and it's not running. It's advancing in a different direction!"

"…sounds like running to me."

The Chief Agent's groan turned into a sudden shriek, as his arms were yanked skyward like an overenthusiastic student. His head snapped up, and found thin black strings wrapped around his wrists like fishing lines.

"Aster!" he managed to yell a warning before his arms came down to wrap around his sword. Extra strings were appearing, snagging his fingers and gripping them around the hilt.

"Uh oh," Aster darted back across the gap between the stairs just in time to avoid the downward strike that would have cleaved her in two. A single tentacle of Darkness emerged, snapping with its snake-like head at the strings, only to shriek as it too was ensnared.

"Aster get out of here!" Michael's legs were floppy beneath him, but the strings wrapped around his ankles and walked him forwards like a poorly controlled marionette. Behind him, Life emerged from the debris, her hair a mess, and her smirk wicked.

"I've no strings, to hold me down-"

"Oh please! No Age of Ultron references!" Michael yelled, shrieking as his body lurched to the edge of the stairwell, pivoting over the seven story drop. Another tentacle of Darkness shot out, only to be seized by another string. Both it and the first tentacle dissolved instantly, as Michael stood almost directly under the huge chandelier in the middle of the stairwell.

"Bad puppet," Life singsonged, lifting her hands, strings coiled around her fingers like snakes. "No arguing with your master."

Flicking a hand, Michael's right hand seized his sword and thrust it like a javelin across the gap. Aster effortlessly moved, but the job was done – the sword plunged into the light switch panel, and with a crackling of sparks, the stairwell was plunged into darkness.

There was a tiny glow, as Aster summoned a ball of moonlight into the palm of her hand. Around her, fierce orange eyes glowed, surrounding her on all sides. Teeth sparkled in the magical glow, before with a single shriek, they pounced on their victim.

Like a candle flame, the light was instantly snuffed out.

OOO

Sierra Iphelea did not try to talk him out of it. She just looked at him long and hard, recognized that stony expression for what it was, and she knew that nothing would sway him.

She got to work immediately.

The actual process was swift. No pomp. No ceremony. Just her, Aide, and a potion of Phoenix and Vampire blood, alone in Sierra's usual room in the tavern.

But they were not really alone. In a shadowy corner of the room, Adrian the Librarian watched, unable to ignore the clench of his heart as the potion passed the young man's lips, or able to stop the tears of despair as his younger self pushed through the magic ravaging his system. His fur bristled at the hair raising scream, as the knowledge of his own futility and smallness in the world hit him hard, and he sagged heavily into the floorboards, as he emerged from the overwhelming experience, still breathing with panting, shuddering gasps.

Barely twenty seconds after the potion had been swallowed, Aide sat up again, neither dead nor alive.

Sierra's face lost some of the tension, and a smirk twitched at her lips.

"Nice hair," she greeted the newly turned Blade Dancer.

Adrian hadn't even registered it. Aide's usual ebony mess of hair, was a ghostly silvery white. The young man made no move to look at it or even acknowledge her statement. He was shaking – the process had barely lasted a minute, but to Aide, it seemed to have lasted days.

It took Adrian a second to realise that he was shaking too. Somewhere, in a locked off portion of his mind, he knew how it felt to come out the other side of this process. A cold sweat was forming on his body, his fur growing slowly clammy.

If Sierra cared whether or not he was actually listening, she did not show it, shrugging casually, and continuing as though nothing odd had occurred.

"Sometimes that happens," she assured him. "People lose weight, or their eyesight goes funny. Sometimes magic isn't happy with the payment…sometimes it asks for a tip, as it were."

It was a hell of a payment, Adrian thought to himself, recognising the process for what it was. He could see plots and character's personal development weaved all over this story like a tapestry. Normally every person's lives were a single length of thread, stretching off into the distance, from beginning to end. Blade Dancers usurped this, effectively by taking the two ends of their lives and tying them together. This put their bodies in a state of constant self-renewal, meaning that they could rapidly heal and take the heavy hits required to go up against gods. It also meant that they could not sleep.

If I'd just thought about it Adrian thought bitterly to himself. I'd have noticed the signs all those years ago when Phoenixia was first writing this series…

"You alright?" Sierra asked, as the newly initiated Blade Dancer rose, shakily to his feet. The answer was clearly no, but Aide gave a short nod anyway.

"Good."

No sooner had he got to his feet, before the youth was sent flying back into a wall. Adrian yelped and darted out of the way as Sierra advanced, already raising a fist.

But Aide was not helpless – he was a trained city guard. To his astonishment, he found himself perfectly able to think through a strike that should have broken several of his ribs. Without even thinking, he brought his arms straight up into a guard, and locked Sierra's incoming fist. Her eyes flashed.

"What was that for?" he demanded, a little winded, but mostly unharmed.

"You've accepted this power, and this life," Sierra told him. "Now you must learn what you are to go up against!"

Twisting out of the lock, she struck, sending dust and chips of plaster billowing through the room. In the next room of the tavern, a half dressed couple screamed.

His mum is going to kill him was the only thought going through Adrian's head, as his younger self retaliated in what was certain to be a long and intense training session.

OOO

Fighting was not in Valerie's nature by any means. Running was always preferable.

Ari understood this too, which was why she was not particularly surprised when her familiar yanked her back into the familiar surroundings of the Library. Here she had the home field advantage, and she nodded thankfully at the little dragon, before finding her feet and taking off for the nearest door.

She was in the yoga room, and she hopped the mats and made it to the door as her skin tightened with sudden nerves. Order had followed her. He was not flashy or dramatic about it, like the rest of the Sovereigns, but she knew he was there, as scythes of wind began to cut through the bookshelves, sending pages fluttering across the room before the door swung shut behind her, blocking the sight.

"Where to?" she asked, wondering if it was possible for her heart to thump right out of her chest, as she ran down the corridor.

"Are you prepared?" Ari asked seriously, and Valerie did not have to ask for her to elaborate.

"To kill him?" she asked, feeling a shudder of apprehension in spite of herself. "Yes."

The dragon nodded. "Then somewhere high. You will need every advantage."

That was not an encouraging statement, but Valerie let her have it. She would take any advantage too. The corridor spread out before her, morphing into one of the main staircases.

"Perfect," the healer muttered, taking the stairs two at a time as the door to the yoga room exploded into the corridor behind her.

"I've got him," Ari assured her, whirling in midair, her small wings flared out as she barred the end of the corridor with a fierce glare.

Feeling the burn in her chest, Valerie pulled herself up the stairs, as Ari's shrieks took her into the battle.

OOO

Fire raced across the street like a special effect. Pedestrians screamed and ran for cover as shards of ice lanced through the air and shattered into shrapnel on the ground.

High above, Tash tumbled out of a dive and pinwheeled across the ground, skidding to a halt at an intersection. Traffic screeched to a halt around her, several cars skidding at the carpet of ice that suddenly spread across the tarmac. The Society leader jumped clear before it could snare her, coming to land on top of the nearest set of traffic lights.

"That all you've got?" she snarled as the angel flapped into view. Perfect icicles materialised in his grip before he hurled them like a set of javelins. Like a pair of flares, Tash's wings reappeared and she twisted out of the way of the first one, only to shriek as the second icicle speared through her wings and spread like paint to encase the entire limb. She plummeted heavily to the ground, the rough road shredding her knees like tissue paper.

"Give into salvation!" Purity was practically snarling. "Stop trying to fight me!"

"Over my dead body!" With a flare of magic, the ice melted away from Tash's wings, and turned into puddles around her feet as she darted up the road to deliver a flaming strike to Purity's torso. Shards of ice shot up in a protective shield before the Sovereign, leaving the strike to graze his shoulder. Flames licked at his face and he staggered to his knees as Tash landed behind him, immediately jumping ten feet into the air to give herself some more distance.

"Get this through your head, Purity," the Society leader turned to glare. "I don't want saving! And I don't need it!"

Her opponent did not move, remaining as he was, crouched in a puddle of melted ice in the middle of the intersection. Before Tash could move to land and open a plothole however, she became conscious of a chill that had settled around her. Something white and cold brushed against her nose, and her whole body suddenly burst into paralyzing agony. She plunged heavily into the road, the storm of sparkling snowflakes descending heavily around her. Nephthys clattered some distance away, and she began to scream, as each snowflake seemed to burn through her skin like a white hot needle.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Purity was whispering, the deadly snow settling harmlessly in his hair and on his shoulders as he rose from his crouch. "I call it The Cleansing Storm. It's like holy water in snow form – designed to purge the body of its sins. Oh, its not without pain...but then saving never is."

Her flesh was burning like it had been soaked in acid as the liquid melted and began to absorb into her skin. Now she could barely breathe, let alone scream. All she could do was curl in on herself and gasp for a respite that would never show itself as the snowflakes swirled faster and faster around her. Tears were breaking out of the corners of her eyes, but she could not feel them. Surely her skin had burned off now, and her very soul was not far off that fate either.

Through blurred vision, and the roar of wind, she caught sight of Purity, watching the scene unfold with a resigned expression, before turning his head away and the snow wrapped her in its cold, dark embrace.

OOO

"I've got no strings to hold me down," Life giggled twisting her strings in a way that could only make sense to her. Michael wished he could block his ears, but his limbs were still snared in that terrible grip as the tentacles pounced on their victim in the darkness, smothering her from view.

"Stop singing!" Michael could only shriek, horrified by what he was doing, and wanting to scream at how powerless he was to stop it.

"Make me," Life stuck her tongue out and went back to humming. "To make me fret. Or make me frown..."

Michael screwed his eyes shut.

"I had strings. But now I'm free-"

"Kyaa...there are no strings on me."

Astonished, Life whirled, her fingers jerking the tentacles away sharply as she moved, to reveal nothing but air. Floating behind her, bathed in silvery light, Aster glared.

"Sorry," the fae shrugged. "Not a fan of tentacle porn."

Life's lips pulled back in a snarl, and she flung herself out of the way as Aster's staff came around to swipe at her face.

Relief was shortlived, as Michael felt himself being yanked over, and flung bodily at the fae. Both agents landed in a heap someway down the corridor.

"Ugh..." the chief agent muttered, yelping as Aster's staff bonked him heavily on the head. "OW!"

"Sorry!" his colleague said. "Had to check!"

Scowling, Michael rubbed the back of his head, euphoria surging through him as he realised that Life had released him. He scrambled to his feet as the Sovereign approached, her stance menacing.

Aster gave a sudden screech, as her body lurched upward with a familiar limpness. Her staff swung again, and Michael scrambled backwards before it could catch him in the gut.

"Oh come on!" he exclaimed, as Life yanked Aster upright and catapulted her towards him.

"Would you like me to behead her?" the Darkness asked conversationally.

"No way!" Michael exclaimed, making a hasty block against Aster's staff. It slid off the diamond sword with a shower of ice.

"I'm sorry!" Aster whined, yelping as she swung her staff up again.

"It's alright!" Michael assured her, grunting as his strike to her wrist was blocked with a jarring blow to his shoulder. "Sorry!"

"Oh I could watch this all day!" Life smirked, leaning back against the wall, her fingers jerking like a pianist as she weaved her puppet down the corridor.

And Michael realised, with a surge of dread, that she definitely could.

OOO

Emily knew the corridors of the Library Arcanium like the back of her hand - a back of her hand that tended to move around and change places on a regular basis, but familiar none the less. She knew what lay behind each door in the corridor, and she recognised all the twists and turns as she bolted past them.

She doubted that she would recognise the corridors after this fight was over.

Resolve tore his way after her, shredding walls and bookcases to confetti. His gauntlets were fully charged, and his powers were working to full capacity. She knew with a nasty clarity, that he wouldn't stop until he killed her.

She charged straight into the wall at the end of the corridor, bouncing off the bookshelf, and tearing down the right hand side. The ground beneath her gave a wrenching crack as the foundations began to buckle, and her foot went straight through it like wet biscuit. Shrieking she dropped into the corridor below, her hands scrabbling for purchase that just was not there.

She landed feet first, the shock jarring up her bones and into her spine as she crumpled to the tiled floor. One of her knees had landed in a puddle which oozed through her leggings, and her hand was covered in something sticky. Heavy boots thudded on the tiles ahead of her, and she tilted her head up to see Resolve looming overhead, his right gauntlet glowing by his ear.

"Yield to me."

Emily shrieked and cringed away from the incoming strike. There was a sound like jelly being sucked through a straw, and Resolve gave a yelp of alarm. She peered back up just in time to see him rip his right arm free from what looked like a monstrous blob of matter. His left arm was seized with a sucking noise, and he whirled to punch the newest threat with his right gauntlet. Emily recoiled in horror as the reddish brown goo splattered all over her, mixing with the blood and dirt still matted in her hair to form a horrible sludge.

She screamed as the sludge seemed to pulse and seep over her head, trickling its way down over her ears and around her jaw like disgusting fingers. She clawed at it, but it only came away in viscous strands before snapping back to ooze around her nose. Ahead of her, Resolve was struggling in the same way as mouldy sludge seeped over his gauntlets and began crawling up his arms. She smelt decay, filth and...tomato sauce?

Her stomach turned over in terror as she recognised the out of date appliances and the linoleum countertops, just visible beneath the pulsing, rippling mouldy ooze, now pulling itself across the floor towards its victims.

They had landed in kitchen three.

OOO

"Carry the three…" Harriet could not remember doing this much maths with such intensity since her A-Levels. And the fate of the world certainly had not rested on her getting an A in that. Slamming her pen into the paper she screamed in frustration. Her hand was cramping after working for so long, and her brain was starting to feel stretched. "Runoa, something is going wrong with this!"

She was not the only frustrated party. The former Librarian reached over her shoulder and snatched the paper away, scanning Harriet's scribbles. She hissed between her teeth.

"This has to work, Harriet!" she snapped. "Without this, the entire spell falls apart!"

"Well something needs to be changed further down the formula then," Harriet jabbed a finger at the huge whiteboard that they sat next to, a curious mixture of numbers, runes and other symbols scrawled over it. "Because I can't get these numbers to crunch."

"We've tweaked this bit of the equation five times already!" Runoa tossed a pen into the floor, and gripped two handfuls of her own hair. "I'm not messing with it anymore, or there's no guarantee that it will work!"

"And there's not even a guarantee if we don't get this equation right!" Harriet snapped thrusting the paper at her. "Don't get pissy with me just because you made this spell so ridiculously complex!"

The former Librarian's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Careful Marlow. I don't need to be here helping you."

But Harriet was not easily intimidated, and rose to her feet, eyeing Runoa challengingly.

"Yes you do!" she hissed.

As if premeditated, there was a terrifying crash somewhere in the far reaches of the Library. All the lights flickered and died instantly, plunging everyone into darkness.

"In the dark blue sky you keep. And often through my curtains peep…"

The insane giggling rang through the Library, sending a chill up the spines of everyone listening.

"Peek a-boo, Society. I see you!"