As soon as the duo returns home, they stash their pilfered loot deep in the closet and then flop on the bed. Ralph falls fast asleep the second his head hits the pillow. Wile, on the other hand, struggles for the next hour until he is too drowsy to do anything else. Closing his eyes, he descends deep into slumberland, his body growing heavier by the second as his consciousness fades.

Wile wakes up, seemingly from instinct. The bedroom is lit as if by the morning sun, yet the adjacent window, with neither glass nor blinds, is pitch black. Unphased by this oddity, he casually heads for the door. Stepping into the kitchen, he feels a sudden chill. There, sitting at the dining table, is not Ralph or Pepé or Charles, but his father, Trick E. Coyote.

Trick is the spitting image of his son, tall and awkward, but his body is infested with mange, patches of crusty scabs where ragged brown fur should be, and his intense eyes are bloodshot, sclera more red than yellow. Head hung low, he mutters something that Wile barely can pick up. Then he repeats it ad nauseam, the volume growing louder with each utterance.

"I need to catch that roadrunner."

Trick raises his head, his bleary gaze meeting Wile's. "Have you caught him yet?"

Before Wile can respond, Trick shrivels up, losing flesh and hair by the second until finally he turns to sand. Then the dining area and kitchen start to dissolve into sand, giving way to the Southwestern desert which he once lived in for nearly thirty years. Only it isn't quite as he remembers it. This desert is barren of cacti and rocks, and the sand is soft enough for his feet to sink into. Far in the horizon, he can barely catch sight of a greyish sliver and a series of long, thin poles interconnected by curved strands. Echoing in the distance he can hear a familiar sound: "MEEP MEEP!"

He takes a step forward, then another and another. As he trudges along, a sudden gust picks up, clouding his vision with flurries of dusty sand. He fights against the sandstorm even as it intensifies, pummeling him to the point of tearing through flesh. "I need to catch that roadrunner," his father's voice resounds in his mind.

Soon, however, his travel has taken its toll on him, and he finally collapses, too weak to go on. His body is mere skin and bones and his stomach aches as it slowly eats itself. He watches the sandstorm die out, revealing a figure standing before him. A wolfish figure in a black mask. Anubis.

Anubis utters something Wile doesn't understand. Then his body morphs, blackening and growing into a large, bestial form that looks like nothing he's ever seen, with a sloped snout, tapered ears, and a forked tail. The beast opens its maw, revealing several rows of teeth, and descends upon him.


A jolt through his body shocks Wile awake. He checks the time. 3:00 a.m. He considers going back to sleep, but remnants of the sensation that awoke him linger. Surrendering to his restlessness, he slips out of bed, glancing at Ralph sleeping peacefully, then exits the bedroom.

From the darkened living room, two golden eyes stare back at him. "Monsieur Coyote, what are you doing up this late?" Charles asks.

"I could ask the same of you." Wile approaches the front door, hand wrapped around the knob.

"Where are you going?"

"Work," he lies. "It's private business, so don't tell the others."

"Okay. Well, don't work too hard. Ralph and Papa wouldn't want you in the hospital again."

He cracks a tiny smile. "I won't. You have school tomorrow, so get some sleep, okay?"

Charles nods. "Bonne nuit, Monsieur Coyote."

"'Night, Charlie." He opens the door. "By the way, you can call me Wiley." Without another word, he's out.


Out on the streets of North Quarter, Wile wanders, aimless yet with a purpose in mind. If he can find a single lead on the missing Road Runner, he can finally end this endless pursuit. Whether it's for vengeance or penance, once that bird is caught, his father's soul can rest in peace. But having been distracted from this goal, he finds himself uncertain where to start.

Thinking back to what he knows about ACME Corp and its history with roadrunners, he starts to speculate. If the bird they took in is the same one that he and Dad have been chasing all this time, it must be of great importance to them. But how? What would a manufacturing company want with a bird, of all things? More importantly, how did an animal sanctuary turn into a factory in the first place?

He rubs his temples. I can hardly think straight. I need to talk this over with someone. Someone I trust who knows ACME inside and out… A lightbulb shines over his head. I got it!

Going slightly south and east to Termite Terrace, a series of modern-style condominiums that blend in with the industrial backdrop of ACME Corp, Wile approaches the entrance marked 115 and rings the doorbell. A moment later, the door opens. Clad in a loose-fitting Acme Tech University sweater, Calamity rubs his eyes and gives Wile a confused look.

"I know it's a bit late, but I need your help with something. Can I come in?"

Cal steps aside and invites Wile in. Right away, the spacious interior greets him with an array of all things techy and nerdy: a widescreen TV with several game consoles installed, walls dotted with posters for various TV shows and films, and shelves filled with reference texts and figurines of anime and comic book characters.

As Cal clips on the neurotransmitter for his speech device, Wile inspects the decor, taking special note of a figure of a cockatrice in a lightly armored dress and wielding an elaborate broadsword. "Holy shit, you watch Kismet/Night Stand, too?"

"And Null, Pseudepigrapha, Dia Leeya, Count Zetalle II Case Files, plus the Elysian Sensation film trilogy. I also play Kismet/Divine Quest on my phone every now and then."

"There's more? I haven't even finished Night Stand!"

"It's pretty daunting, but you don't need to watch everything to enjoy Kismet. If you'd like, we can watch a few episodes while we talk."

With the television turned on, they gather on the couch to watch Kismet/Night Stand on Acmeflix. As the intro credits play, Wile gives a brief summary of his nightmare and his ignited curiosity with ACME Corp's history. "I know you can't do much because of confidentiality, but I was hoping that maybe we can figure something out together."

Cal mulls over it before answering. "If you're asking what I know about ACME, unfortunately we're both on the same boat. The amount of public information about the company and especially its CEO is surface level at best. I can't help but wonder, 'What are they hiding?' I shouldn't be doing this as an ACME employee, but I might be able to help. One thing I know about A.C.C.L is that they keep digital backups of their entire inventory, including their private archives. When they started doing this a few years ago, I was hired to help with programming their ebook library checkout system. The security might have tightened since but I doubt much else has changed." He breaks out a confident smile. "Meaning that, with a few keystrokes, I can slip into their digital shelves and 'check out' ebooks faster than you can say 'Excalibur'."


On the third floor of ACME Corp's Executive building, Bugs exits an elevator and proceeds down the hallway. With each step, his ears and nose twitch, incited by intuitive feeling. Yet no sound or scent is present.

Approaching the meeting room entrance, he stops to shoot a side glance. "Y'know, sneaking up on people won't earn you many friends, Mr. Wolfgang. But I appreciate your punctuality. Where's your adorable assistant, by the way?"

Standing a short distance behind is Wyatt Wolfgang, glowering. "He's out on personal business. How's the fiancée?"

"The poor thing's overworked herself so I dismissed her for the day."

"So we're alone, then?"

"Just the two of us, as you requested." Using his ID on the scanner, Bugs unlocks the door.

Inside the room is a long table of polished wood surrounded by matching chairs, save for a large office throne of black leather at the far end. Bugs offers his guest a seat adjacent to the throne. Wyatt takes a further seat instead. "Let's cut to the chase," the wolf starts. "I know you're working with Heru. Raiding tombs and smuggling the blood of our kind, and for what? So you can blast yourself into space? Whatever Queen Tyr'ahnee said to convince you, it's all lies and you know it!"

Hearing the Queen's name, Bugs' demeanor changes, losing any semblance of his earlier affability. "Tyr'ahnee and I have a history. She and the Martians saved me from the brink of death. By injecting their lifeblood into mine, they made me a L'nghatiikh, a god among Sapients. As their child, I am indebted to them. Even if it's all a lie, if it will grant me my ultimate wish…"

"To save all Sapients?"

With a deathly gaze, he says, "To eliminate the demons who call themselves 'humans' and reclaim what belongs to us."

"Michabo, there are better ways to save our land. Ones that don't involve teaming up with tyrannical invaders."

"Worry not, I've dealt with colonizers before. This nation was built thanks to my negotiations with the white men, and in due time Acmetropolis will be built thanks to the Martians." Smugly, he adds, "Tell me, Upuaut, what would you give for your beloved Egypt to return to its former glory?"

Wyatt hesitates. Any answer he gives will betray him one way or another. If he denies it, he would be lying; Kemet, the ancient land of pharaohs, made him who he is, for better or worse. But if he says the truth, he would be falling right into Michabo's trap. "In the past I would have said, 'I'd give anything to have my empire back'. But I have traveled the world for centuries now, and seen all of its beauty and ugliness. Egypt is far from perfect, but what nation is? Regardless, it is my homeland and I will protect it from anything that threatens it. Including you."

Bugs frowns and falls silent. Then he smiles again, but his speech is tainted with venom. "If that is your response, then I cannot deny it. I'm sorry you can't contribute to our cause, but I would appreciate it if you continued to support ACME Corp in the upcoming year. Not as a L'nghatiikh, but as a businessman." He summons a sheet of paper from thin air and shows it to the wolf. "If you would sign the dotted line, we can continue our collaboration. ACME Corp will abort the excavations and distribute your products stateside, and in return you will turn a blind eye to our dealings with Wedjat."

He looks at the document, then at the hare. "A tempting offer, but that wouldn't be necessary." With a snap of his fingers, the document is shredded to bits. "I found a business partner better suited to my purposes. They're a lot smaller than what you got here, but brimming with potential." He gets up and heads for the door, only turning back to say, "You can keep up your dirty work, Michabo, but mark my words: I will get my treasure back, whatever it takes."


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey, it's been a while, hasn't it? For those reading this, thank you so much for arriving this far!

To explain the delay, it's basically a combination of writer's block and IRL stuff eating up my time and energy. This chapter went through so many rewrites, each time with a different set of events or characters. The only remotely consistent thing throughout was Wile waking up at 2am due to anxiety. While what you just read could have been more fleshed out in some areas, it was already running long so I decided to just cut it short and continue the rest in the next one. Who knows? Maybe I can find a home for some of those scrapped chapter ideas.

I can't think of anything else to say, so I'll just leave it at that. See you next time!