ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS FAN FICTION — EVEN THOSE BASED ON FICTIONAL PEOPLE — ARE ENTIRELY MADE-UP. ALL DANTE REFERENCES ARE RESEARCHED… POORLY. THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS LEWD SEXUAL HUMOR AND DUE TO ITS LONG INTROSPECTIVE MONOLOGUES IT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE. _|_|_|

Craig

So, like, what the fuck. Like, actually what the fuck.

What the fuck?

Kay, yeah, I've been to R'lyeh, I've seen some weird shit. But the thing on that river had to have been the worst thing I had ever seen. It was gargantuan, anyway, and it had hard plates for scales—but whales are mammals, they don't have scales, and this thing looked sort of like a whale. One of those bigass Moby Dick ones. But it was long like a serpent and its face was smaller, even though its mouth was huge. It was the fuckin' mouth I was trying to escape.

I'd managed to keep my footing on the slippery cluster of mechanical looking rocks that jutted out of the misty red river well enough, but I was clearly on this thing's turf (or water I guess) and as far as I knew it was just playing with me. Maybe it wanted to eat me, maybe it wanted to just stab me with those teeth a whole lot, but I was definitely not supposed to live through that ride.

"Gary!" I shouted into my wire as the thing came down at me again. I fell and rolled out of the way of the beast's teeth just as it chomped down, but the wet rocks kept me sliding until I was nearly back in the water.

I slammed my left boot down onto a jagged ledge and stopped before I could be thrown into the river, and I rolled over onto my back and took my sunglasses off for another quick look around. The beast let out a horrible, grating wail and dove back into the water, completely disappearing from view.

"GARY," I hollered again.

My wire crackled, and then finally the Missionary came through. "I think we've figured it out, Endgame," he said.

"Thank fuck because this thing is wearing me out."

"I wish you wouldn't say—never mind. The thing in the water is the Leviathan."

"What."

"The Leviathan? A Biblical monster that—"

"Okay," I said, scanning the water for it. Putting a name to it wasn't enough, I needed weaknesses. Anything. Anyfuckingthing. "How do I beat it?"

"The Book doesn't exactly say anything about defeating beasts," Gary said. "It's just sort of understood that they're… there."

"COOL. Thanks, Gary."

The Leviathan resurfaced and I sat up quickly, slamming my feet flat onto the ground and keeping myself propped up with my arms so I could glare right at it. I was able to get a pretty steady laser blast going, but all it did was push the Leviathan back a couple yards. I had to slide my sunglasses back on for a break, but as soon as I did, the beast was lunging at me again.

I looked up behind me for anything on that tiny island of rocks that I could try to use against my opponent, but I came up empty. I couldn't use the land against this thing, and it was faster than me. There was only so much running around I could do before it knocked me into the water or crushed me or ate me.

That was how Limbo ended, I guessed: unceremoniously. It was all about wandering around aimlessly until meeting a completely horrible end. That couldn't be right. I couldn't die in there, I had shit to do.

The Leviathan dove into the water and emerged two seconds later, towering over me. I flipped onto my stomach, grabbed both of my swords, then spun around again as the mouth came down on me. I skidded to one side and sliced my blades under the Leviathan's lower jaw, but all I did was create sparks. The skin was impenetrable. At least from anything sharp.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you," I muttered at the thing as I sheathed my swords and darted further underneath its jaw and out of sight.

Being in its blind spot bought me a little time to try something new. I positioned my feet solid on the ground, grabbed off my sunglasses and stared up at the monster. When the lasers hit, it screeched and dove completely over the rocks, disappearing again.

Okay. So I hit it. But I couldn't bring this thing down one lucky shot at a time.

What was it Disarray had said before I'd entered the ride? Welcome to the Hellmouth. If you can't figure out how to escape, it will swallow you whole.

Hellmouth… Hellmouth…

Oh, fuck.

The Leviathan emerged again and screamed at me.

"Aaaaahhh yourself, asshole!" I shouted back at it.

I took my sunglasses off and blasted it, but it had caught onto me at this point. From the other side of my little patch of land, the Leviathan's tail shot up and nearly crushed me from behind. I saw its shadow at the last second and ran out of its way, and the tail came down, jostling several scraps of rock loose. My terrain became even more unstable, and worse, a good chunk of it sank into the water.

"Gary!" I shouted.

"Y-yes, Endgame?"

"What exactly does the Book say about the Hellmouth?"

"The… well, it's just… something you have to go through in order to get to Hell. It… it devours you, takes you into the Pit."

"Kay," I said.

"Just 'okay'?!" Gary cried out. "Endgame, what is going on?"

"Can't talk, gotta go."

I surveyed the damage the Leviathan had done all around me, and carefully unsheathed one of my swords. The thing retracted its tail and opened its gaping mouth. I almost had a clean shot.

The Leviathan bit down and I ran out of its way. Its head hit the ground hard and I heard a crack. More of the surface I was standing on sank into the water behind me, but I kept running. Only to run right into the path of the Leviathan's tail.

It smacked me hard in the stomach and sent me sprawling onto my back. Before I could recover, the tail raised up and came down on me again. I didn't have time to roll out of its way, and it knocked the wind out of me.

The thing's tail retracted and I lay there coughing until I could breathe again, only for the beast's mouth to appear over me. The Leviathan slowly opened its jaws, revealing its innumerable sharp, jagged teeth. I tried to regulate my breathing. Only one way out now. I took a deep breath and let it out, and tested my legs and arms to make sure I could still move. I'd have to be quick, but I could do it.

"Think you've really got me?!" I shouted up at the Leviathan.

The Leviathan answered by slowly lowering its head toward me. Saliva dripped from the corners of its mouth and into the misty red river, hissing upon contact.

"I'm not gonna go down like this!"

Gary Harrison heard me through the wire and asked, "Why?"

And I was glad he did. I was glad someone heard me, because it gave me that little extra kick in the ass to get out of that ride and out of that river once and for all. I grinned, then steeled myself and said, "Because I'm Endgame. Nothing's over till I say it is."

With that, I sat up and jabbed my sword down into the crumbling metallic rock and pried a large flat shard loose. As the Leviathan dove back down at me, I sheathed my sword, grabbed my slice of rock, and took another deep breath.

Its teeth came down over me like a cage and I jumped—not away but in. As long as I got past the teeth, I figured I'd be good. It was tough footing on the beast's giant tongue, and I couldn't see a damn thing until the Leviathan opened its mouth again.

I pulled off my sunglasses and, just as I'd sort of figured, nothing happened since I was on unsteady, non solid ground. I hefted up the rock and walked across the thing's tongue toward the side of its mouth, once again pretty dangerously close to the teeth. But the mouth was probably my only exit. Better than getting digested.

The thing let out its grating cry again, and lifted its tongue to try to swallow me. I yelped and jumped again, just narrowly grabbing onto one of its sharp molars, but this was probably the best chance I'd get to attack. Once the Leviathan's tongue lowered again, I dropped the rock and jumped down onto it.

I closed my eyes for a second, squared my feet, then opened my eyes to stare straight down the monster's throat.

And it fucking worked.

The slab of rock was just enough solid ground to read the glyphs on my boots, and I was able to shoot out a laser blast from my eyes long enough to do the damage I'd been aiming for.

When I pulled my sunglasses back on and blinked to readjust my vision, I was able to see the hole I'd blasted in the back of the Leviathan's throat.

It screamed again, and with the scream it flicked me out of its mouth, sending me sailing back down toward the jutting rocks in the middle of the stream. I landed hard and rolled to the side, feeling bruised up already but nothing fractured, nothing broken. I scrambled up to my feet and looked around frantically for the boat I'd come in on as the Leviathan screamed and thrashed all around me.

I looked back up at it and saw that it was oozing black sludge out of the gaping wound in the back of its throat. After a few seconds, it started spitting the sludge out across the interior of the ride, and every surface it touched dissolved. Fuck.

The boat moved past me just in time. I had no idea how it could still be in one piece, but I couldn't question it. I got in, and one whip of the Leviathan's tail sent me off on a current strong enough to carry my vessel out of that room and through more thick red mist.

I was expecting another room, but instead, the river dumped me out—literally dumped me, hurled me right out of the boat—on the bank I'd entered through, on the Carnival grounds. The Leviathan's screams echoed behind me for a few seconds, and then dissipated.

"Endgame?" I heard Gary ask over the wire. "Endgame, what's your status?"

"Kinda badass, kinda humiliated," I said, with my face in the fucking dirt.

"What?"

I heard Henrietta say, "That's probably good."

"Oh, hey," I said to her. "I heard that."

"Good. That means you survived the Hellmouth."

That meant I beat it and I was free to roam the Carnival grounds. Perfect.

I sat up and instantly felt gross. I was covered in monster spit and the hot air from the volcano made it dry crisp against my skin like glue. Not that it would have yielded any results, but I pulled off my sunglasses and looked around for something I could try to dry off with, of course finding nothing.

As I was looking around, Mysterion's voice came through the wire: "How'd you beat your ride?"

"I'll go into details later," I said. "But basically I just did what I was supposed to do and went through the Hellmouth. I just made my own route. Where is everyone else?"

"You're only the second one out," Mysterion answered. "It's been several hours and most of the team has gone into the Carnival at this point."

"So what's the plan?" I asked him.

"Find Cartman," Mysterion said. "That's our best chance right now. Everyone else is stuck on their rides and we still have no idea where he is. I'm convinced that we need him in order to get any further."

"Copy that."

Before I could cut out the call, though, Henrietta said a quick, "So, hey."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"It's just us on frequency. I just went out for a cigarette." I coulda used one, too. Damn. "Anyway. Good job."

I maybe kinda grinned a little. She didn't compliment anyone often, even me. "Thanks," I managed. "So, uh…"

"Yeah. Uh."

"Yeah. Sorry if I was a dick or whatever," I told her. "I'm not great at emotional stuff."

"Shit, me neither," she said. "But you are good at this hero thing, Craig. It suits you."

"I think I just felt an emotion," I said, and she snorted to try not to laugh. "Thanks, Henrietta. I'm covered in Leviathan spit but at least I know that's a good thing."

"Sick."

"Yeah, I'm not a fan."

"Are we good?" she asked pretty abruptly. "You've gotta get to your mission and stuff, but… are we good?"

"What, like, on good terms?" I asked.

"I guess."

I sighed. "Listen, I get that friendship isn't really in the Goth lexicon," I said, "but if that's where we are, I'm cool with that."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I never meant to pressure you or anything. You're cool, Henrietta, so just, like… keep being you, you know?"

"Fuck," she said. "I almost felt an emotion."

"So this is what it feels like outside Limbo, huh?" I said, laughing a little.

"Hmm." Henrietta paused, then said, "There's someone out there for you, Craig."

"Hopefully not in Hell," I replied. Yeah, so we were still broken up. Which was fine. Absolutely fine. She had her life and I had mine, and if both our paths let us be friends, that was good enough for me. All I'd needed was a definite answer.

"Hopefully."

"Thanks. And Henrietta?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for helping us," I said. "Really. You're, like… what makes this whole machine tick, you know? We'd be so fucked without you."

I heard her cough a little. Before she could let on that she was actually choked up, which I knew she must have been, she said, "Go kick some ass, Endgame."

I grinned. "Oh, I plan on it."

And with that, the conversation was over, and I was back to thinking about my next moves. I took off my hat to wring it out, but as soon as I had I heard footsteps.

I whirled around just in time to see a tall figure walking toward me, nearly in shadow from the backlight of the bright red volcano in the distance.

– – –

Clyde

After parting ways with Red Serge, I walked only a few paces before I had to stop and survey what I could of the Carnival grounds. I like to think of myself as practical. Then again, I like to think of myself as a leader, and I was doing a pretty shit job of that lately.

The one thing I picked up on first when I looked around was that everything was way too quiet. There was the volcano, and the offset tremors, and some faint staticky music, but one thing that set me apart from Mysterion that I didn't really communicate to anyone but my fiancee was that I actually hated working alone.

We were a team. Going separate ways to college and whatever was one thing, but we'd all chosen to keep coming back here, to keep the team together. I relied very heavily on the willingness of others to get a job done, and could help people work strengths from there. You can't be a leader without people. I was a leader because I wanted to be. Because I don't feel successful unless the people around me, the people who depend on me, are doing okay.

And boy, had I been fucking that up lately.

Kenny had texted me a bunch since the night the She-Wolf attacked and his girlfriend had disappeared, assuring me it wasn't my fault. But it was, it fucking was. I had told Bebe to leave with Red. I made the call that left them alone.

I also felt completely responsible for what had happened to Token. That one was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I'd made some shit calls in the past, but putting him on the offensive when I Goddamn knew he was better on the defensive was just plain awful of me, and it was my decision that had almost killed him and had put him in the hospital with an injury that was going to affect him forever. Token had been one of my best friends for as long as I could remember, and I had almost killed him. I couldn't forgive myself for that.

I couldn't even look at Bebe for a while after that. I just kept thinking, I'm such a fuck-up, what are you even doing with me? How long till I ruin your life, too?

How long till I somehow managed to let down every single member of the team I was supposed to look out for? We were all falling apart anyway, and I couldn't stand it. The more I tried to keep things together, the more I noticed infighting. Even me and Craig were fighting, and I hated that, too. I couldn't lose the League, but I had no idea what I could possibly do to keep it together.

And if each of these challenges we were supposed to face individually got the better of us, there was only one clear outcome: Damien would win. He'd wear us down. That's what Hell was to me. Losing everything and everyone, losing the exact reason we were here at all. Losing the League. Hell wasn't something that burned, Hell was something that weakened and shattered and ripped apart.

I took a deep breath and pressed onward, overly aware of the blood on my mask and the fast pace of my heartbeat, but determined nonetheless to come out the other end. Whatever was being thrown at me, I'd just have to try to catch and hurl back. If we were losing our way as a team, then I'd just have to help us patch things up again. I was Mysterion's second in command. I had to try to make things better. I had to try to not fuck things up.

I feel like I've been trying to improve myself since I was a kid. That's why Kenny asking me to be his right hand had been so important. It gave me purpose. Just like Bebe gave me purpose. Personal bests have almost not been enough for me. I go for better.

Back in high school, I started out as class treasurer and pushed myself up to student body president. Better. Stan and I had been co-captains of the football team, and when he was out because of what happened to his rib, I fucking stepped it the hell up and got us to states the following year without putting any extra strain on him. Better.

My dad offered me my mom's engagement ring when I told him I was going to propose to Bebe, but I told him no, to give it to my sister instead if she wanted it. I got her a new ring. Bebe wasn't a replacement for Mom, I kept saying; that wasn't why we got engaged so young at all despite what some of the town kept whispering. I had failed my mom and I hadn't ever been able to make up for it. I had failed Bebe once and I wasn't going to do it again if I could help it. I was going to do better. I wasn't going to let something happen to her the way it did when Nyarlathotep attacked the town. I wasn't going to be two minutes too late for her ever again. Better, better, better.

And for the team… for the team, I had to do something. Something. It was just bothering me that I didn't know what. I had to try to think about us when we were all at our best, and try to figure out how to get us back there and beyond.

– – –

All of a sudden, there it was. An undignified sign post with a hastily painted red IV and an arrow pointing to a roughly ten foot wide circle of chalk in the ground that disrupted the regular path. The circle had a thick cross in it, leading in four different directions, but was otherwise nothing spectacular. The others seemed to have clearly devised rides or other attractions they had to beat. Was this it for me? Just a circle?

As soon as I'd stepped up to the sign, though, the ground rumbled. I put a hand on one of my stunners to prepare for an insurgence of Infras or anything else Damien might hurl at me, but instead, four large machines burst out of the ground at each end of the X in the circle. Up with them rose a thin red haze, the same as that which oozed out of the lamp that had guided us into the Carnival.

In front of me emerged from the ground a little post that came up to just below my waist, with a sign in old-timey script that said, Four Rounds Per Play. Insert Coin.

I couldn't have been more ready to get that coin out of my pocket, so I dug it out, glowered down at the Roman numeral IV for a second, then jammed it into the little rig. The post clattered and whirred, and then the four machines at the crossroad illuminated.

Bright red fluorescent light surrounded me as I stepped into the center of the circle, and clanging sounds came from each machine as they revved up. Once my eyes adjusted, I was able to get a good look at each of them, only to find that they were more or less the same. This wasn't a ride, I realized. It was a carnival game.

Each machine was a test of strength, with a large bell at the top and a sprung platform at the bottom. Lightbulbs lined the path that the weight in each game would take from the platform to the bell, and at the top of each machine was a gleaming sign bearing the same word:

GREED.

"Welcome!" a voice came from everywhere around me. The clanging became louder. Damien. Even drowned out by bells, I knew it was him. "Step right up! Test your strength! That should be an easy win for you, Donovan, shouldn't it?"

"Well, fancy hearing you," I spat out at him, wherever he was. I kept my hand on the stunner. "This is it? This is all you want me to do?"

"Dear boy," he said, the condescending prick, "this is the perfect game for you, wouldn't you agree? I want to see what Mysterion's right hand man is capable of."

"So you're gonna make me ring some stupid bells with a hammer?"

"Oh, but this game can be a tricky one!" Damien said with an obnoxious laugh.

As soon as he said that, additional words appeared under GREED on each machine in bright neon lights.

MORALITY.

DEPENDABILITY.

PHYSICAL STRENGTH.

LEADERSHIP.

"You are a true hero, aren't you, Mosquito?" Damien went on. "Let's see how your strength measures up."

I'd beaten those types of games a few times in the past, usually to impress Bebe, but sometimes because the guys and I went to town fairs and bet each other on dumb shit like this. I knew I was good at them, so Damien somehow must have, too. What was the fucking catch?

"So what does this really have to do with me?" I asked the air, hoping Damien could still hear me. I heard the crackle of a loudspeaker in response, so I kept going. "You commissioned those ten paintings from Wilcox. You deliberately had him paint my mask. Why? Why call me out specifically?"

From wherever the loudspeakers were, Damien laughed, and at the same time, the test of strength game machines flashed. "I just wanted to measure up my competition," he said. "You see, once we've… collected Mysterion, and assuming you survive, I'll still have you to deal with, won't I? The torchbearer of the Shadow League, the light along the way, Mysterion's own right hand. Great-nephew of one of the first men to nearly survive a journey to R'lyeh. You have potential, Donovan. I want to see how much of a nuisance you really are."

He could say all he wanted about me, but I hung onto his choice of words regarding Mysterion. "Collected." He really was splitting us up in order to better pick Kenny off. Plus, the entire time I'd been on Carnival grounds, I hadn't seen a single InfraRed. Damien was trying to take away every last defense we had as individuals because he knew what we were capable of as a team.

Come to think of it, Disarray had probably filled him in on every last thing we'd been capable of in R'lyeh.

The ground rumbled again, and up into the center of the circle where I stood rose a large wooden mallet, handle up. I stared down at it, then defiantly wrapped my right hand around it and hoisted it up. Just the same as any other mallet I'd used on these games in the past. No apparent catch… not yet.

The bells rang four times.

"Well, well, well," said Damien from everywhere. "You've accepted the challenge! Good! Now, let's see what you can do, you incessant little bug."

I scowled, swung the mallet over my shoulder, and took a few steps up to the machine marked PHYSICAL STRENGTH. "This is dumb," I said, shifting out the mallet to hold it in both hands.

"Is it, now?"

"Yeah. Watch."

I lifted the mallet up, and brought it down with a breath onto the machine's scale. I felt the platform sink down, but when I glanced up at the track that led to the bell, the weight only traveled up partway before sliding back down.

"What the hell?" I complained aloud.

"Hmm… no luck," Damien taunted. "Give up?"

"After one try? I don't think so," I said, smacking the mallet back down again.

And once again, the weight on the track barely moved.

Anger and doubt rushed through me all at once, and I stormed away from that machine and toward the one marked MORALITY to give that one a shot. I swung down onto the platform, but again… the weight only sailed up partway.

"What gives?" I complained, trying the mallet again. No luck. "What the hell is this?!"

"A test of strength," Damien repeated. "Looks like Mysterion didn't choose so wisely, now, did he?"

I felt my face flush with rage, and I moved to the LEADERSHIP scale instead. I gathered my breath, lifted the mallet, and put even more concentrated effort into hitting it down onto the scale. The weight went up a little higher than the others, and for a second I had hope that it would hit the bell… but then it, like the others, sank back down quickly, hitting the base with an echoing clunk.

He didn't. Mysterion didn't trust me for no reason. Sure, he had confidantes like Toolshed and the Human Kite; yeah, he had his sister in the League. But I had been the one he had personally asked to take charge if anything happened to him. I was the one who led missions when he was off on his own. I wasn't his right hand for no reason. Right? Right?

I smacked the mallet down again, and the weight sailed up a shorter distance than before. I let out a yell and turned away from that machine and toward the fourth. DEPENDABILITY.

"Give up, yet, Mosquito?" Damien taunted.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I spat back.

I took a deep breath, lifted up the mallet, and brought it down on the DEPENDABILITY scale. The weight hardly moved. "Fuck!" I shouted, bringing the mallet down again. And then again, and again. "What is going on?!"

"Simple, really," said Damien. "There's blood on your hands and blood on your mask. It's everywhere you turn, isn't it? You can only lead your men into further tragedy."

Was that what it really boiled down to?

Why did Mysterion choose me?

Why me?

I smacked down the mallet again. Next to nothing.

"Fuck!" I shouted.

Why me? I smashed the mallet down; the weight hardly moved. WHY ME? Again, I brought down the mallet, and the weight barely lifted a foot off the ground.

It wasn't just out of pity that I was Mysterion's immediate backup, was it? Was it? I mean, Kenny was much closer to Stan. Why wasn't Toolshed his right hand? Why didn't Karen replace me the moment the Guardian Angel joined the League?

Had I forced my way into the position in the first place?

Did it really all just boil down to me wanting to prove myself? To be better?

Maybe I was just greedy.

"NO!" I shouted, and ran over to the LEADERSHIP scale.

"No?" Damien repeated, sharply.

"No!" I repeated, trying to remember how to breathe.

I smashed the mallet down on the LEADERSHIP scale. The weight only went halfway up the track. I let out a long yell and whacked it down again. No better.

Token was in the hospital because of me. Token was getting surgery because of me. Token's entire life was forever altered because of me.

I slammed the mallet down again and the weight hardly went up the track at all.

"Fuck you!" I shouted, and tried again on DEPENDABILITY.

Mom had trusted me. She'd trusted me. Mom was gone. It was my fault.

"FUCK!" I shouted when the weight barely even lifted off the ground. I let out a yell and ran over to the machine marked MORALITY. I raised the mallet up over my head and put my entire upper body strength into smashing it down onto the scale.

Bebe would be better off without me, woudn't she? Didn't she deserve better? What had I done for her except dragged her into my fucked up little world? Did she even want to be in the League? Did I even deserve her?

The weight went a third of the way up the track and crashed insultingly back down, and that was when I realized I was dehydrated. The heat from the volcano was too much and I was overexerting myself. I was such a fucking idiot.

The red haze around me was getting thicker.

"Mysterion…" I managed to say into my wire. "You copy…? I've got… I've got some questions…"

Static crackled in my wire for a moment, and I felt my eyes start to burn.

To keep from crying, I held up the mallet and brought it down again onto the MORALITY scale. To, predictably, no avail. I was hardly even moving the weights at this point. And the weaker my strikes on the scales, I realized, the more each machine had started to dim; the bright lights lost in the red haze.

From my earpiece, I heard Gary Harrison say, "Mosquito, I can hear you. I can get a message through to Mysterion if you need me to. You… you know he's depending on you to keep an eye on everyone in there."

"Right," I said doubtfully. "But why me? Ask him that. Why me?"

"You're his…"

"I know!" I snapped. "But why?!"

When we were nine years old, when Coon and Friends first started coming together, Mysterion told me I had potential. He told me that over and over again. On our first mission after I'd had to bury my mom, he reminded me that so much of our camaraderie started because of her lemon bars, that I had been a quick thinker in getting that simple, early mission organized. Even more than my dad, Kenny was the one who said that my mom must have been proud of me.

I gasped in a few breaths, and shoved my way over again to the LEADERSHIP scale. I could barely lift the mallet, but I stared up at the sign. At GREED glaring down at me.

When we were thirteen, Mysterion had trusted me with leading a mission that led to multiple arrests in a local crime ring. When we were eighteen, Kenny had told me that I was a natural leader.

I brought the mallet down, and the weight went up two feet before crashing back down. Gary hadn't answered, which meant Mysterion hadn't answered.

"That's right," Damien's voice said from the dimmed machine behind me. "You're not strong enough. How could you be, little Mosquito? Always taking and taking from others, relying on their blood to live, without having to offer up any of your own. You're no leader, you're a parasite."

"Shut the fuck up!" I shouted. My arms burning, I grabbed up the mallet and rushed over to the machine through which he'd spoken and whacked it down onto the platform. The weight hardly made it up the track halfway. "Shut up!" I shouted, and brought the mallet down again. Worse that time.

I let out a long, loud yell and hurled the mallet forward at the machine labeled LEADERSHIP, then took out my .45 and shot at the bell. The bullet clanged against the metal, then ricocheted right back at me. Before I could get out of its way, it hit my mask, below my right eye, and jostled the thing loose enough to fall off.

I stumbled backwards and fell, hitting the ground hard beside my mask. I dropped my gun and held my head, my cheek stinging from the bullet impact. The mask was fortified—Token and Wendy had seen to that—but the shot still hurt. As it kept stinging, I realized it had been enough to carve a shallow cut.

As the cut started to bleed, I stared up at the red haze, at the dimming lights of the four machines. And I held my hands over my eyes, hating that I felt tears. I hated crying. It didn't accomplish anything. I was better than that. I was better.

But hadn't it been my overassuredness that had gotten Token into such a shit position? And how effective a hero was I if Chaos was back? I couldn't even keep my team safe from him, and I had no idea what his plans were now. And if I couldn't make it out of this, I wouldn't be there to protect anyone.

How could I be there for Bebe, how could I be there for the League, if I couldn't fucking get over myself?

Suddenly, my wire crackled and Gary said, "Compound eyes."

I forced myself to breathe. "What?" I asked warily.

"That's… that's what Mysterion told me to tell you," Gary said. "Something about… just… compound eyes. Does that mean anything to you?"

I gasped and sat up with a jolt. I gathered up my gun, holstered it, then began looking around for my mask. I stumbled over to it, and picked it up, kneeling in the center of the circle amid those insulting machines.

My hands were shaking as I stared down at my mask. I'd designed it in my early teens, and put a lot of thought into it. I'd done my research, I'd looked into every type of festival mask I could find in online shops from New Orleans, so I'd never, ever forget how the League really started. And around the holes for the eyes, I'd painted a hatched pattern, to resemble those of a mosquito.

I had told Kenny that, when I'd gone for the uniform upgrade. Craig had ripped on me for getting too deep into my research and knowing too much about mosquitos, but Kenny… Kenny had complimented me. He'd said, "It makes sense, dude. And you do have compound eyes."

"How do you mean?" I'd asked him.

"You always know what everyone in the Leauge is doing," Kenny had said. "You've got eyes everywhere, Mosquito. You can see what everyone's capable of. That's what makes you a good leader."

And the blood stain on my mask had completely clouded my vision.

Maybe I could get a little self-absorbed, but I did, at the very least, want to look out for everyone. I didn't mean to suck anything out of my team, I wanted to push them. I saw everyone's potential, and I wanted them to see it, too.

I drew in a deep breath, and got myself standing. "Thanks," I said into my wire, looking down at the mask in my hands.

Which was when I realized: no shit Damien and Tenorman had called me out. I was literally wearing a carnival mask. I'd taken that as my identity years ago. The thing I liked about festival masks was that they weren't just accessories… they were kind of alive. They were identities. They meant something. And by calling me out in this fucked-up Carnival, those ringleaders were trying to take that away.

Cautiously, I found and lifted up the mallet again in one hand, going once more for the MORALITY machine. The weight went up a little, but sank back down without hitting the bell.

Of course it did.

It wasn't going to let me win. No matter what I did, even if I could gather the strength to beat one of the machines, the full game would never let me win. I'd just keep on playing and playing into the devil's trap until I killed myself from overexertion.

So there was really only one thing I could do. One thing I should have realized a while ago.

I'm not good with losing. I'm not. I'm very stubborn that way. I'm not good at letting go of grudges or allowing myself to fail. But my team didn't need someone who'd push himself to the limit to prove he'd done nothing wrong. I had to admit my failures and do better. I had to own up to my bad calls and re-evaluate.

This wasn't a time to be greedy and try to prove myself. I had to forfeit the game in order to help everyone else.

I wiped the blood off my cheek with the back of my glove, and slowly, reverently, slid my mask back on.

"Well, now," Damien taunted. "What'll it be?"

I steeled myself and said, "I quit."

After a pause, Damien said, stunned, "What?"

"Yeah," I said. "You know what? Fuck this. I quit. I'm not finishing your stupid game."

There were no walls. Nothing was keeping me there but me.

"You can't do that!" Damien tried to stop me.

"Sure I can," I said. "I don't have time for this." I picked up the mallet, swung it over my shoulder, and started walking out of the circle.

And just like that, the red haze died down, and I began walking the chalk circle back to the Carnival gate. I had to keep an eye out for everyone. Even if I'd made some bad calls recently, I was still Mosquito, I was still a strong force in the League.

I wasn't going to prove my strength in Damien's Carnival game. I was going to do the best I could for the people who needed me, and not let my focus narrow any more.

– – –

One thing was obvious as I reflected on the game: Damien wanted me to play into whatever he'd set up, which meant that he was expecting the same of everyone else. He wanted us to play and he wanted us to either fail or head directly toward him. Aim for the bullseyes. He was banking on us being angry enough and vengeful enough to go after him. One on one, that was just an invitation to be destroyed. He had it all planned out.

And some people on the team would probably fall for it. Kite and Red Serge were certainly already angry enough at the son of the devil for the sheer volume of letters he'd sent to their house; Mysterion was bound and determined to go directly after Damien for taking Red and bringing back a memory of the Shadow. I would have been one of them if I hadn't figured my way out of the game Damien had set up for me.

Yes, I wanted revenge and yes, I wanted to win. And I believed we were going to. Not I, but we. I couldn't go looking for him yet. This wasn't my fight alone. It wasn't any of ours to take on alone.

So I went back to the start.

I wasn't going anywhere until I had my team.

I backtracked along the chalk lines and passed the ruins of a carousel marked with the numeral III. Red Serge was out. I picked up my pace and ran past the other attractions, all still standing. Except for one.

Near the entrance, I passed the forking rivers, and saw that the branch spindling off to the left was giving off a deep red mist. The ride it had led to was no longer there, though the numeral I remained on a signpost. As I drew closer, I could make out someone sitting at the mouth of the river.

I strode forward but as soon as he became aware of me, he spun and was up on one knee, ready to fully stand. "Woah, woah, hey, man, it's me," I said quickly, holding my free hand out in front of me.

"Jesus fuck," said Endgame, sitting back down hard on the ground, splaying his feet far apart, the soles of his boots angled out. "Dude, I could've blasted you."

"Thanks for having slightly lagging reflexes, then," I said. Man, was I glad to see him. I would've taken anyone after dealing with the test of strength games, but I was glad it was him. Craig and I went so far back we may as well have been brothers.

I set down the mallet I'd taken with me and sat down next to him in order to take in his current state, absolutely covered in some sort of filmy substance. "Dude, what happened to you?" I had to know.

Endgame put his sunglasses on the top of his head and started wringing out his chullo hat to one side. "I spent some time in a Biblical monster's mouth," he muttered. "You got a towel?"

"Uh… no, sorry." I thought for a second, then took of my own cap and offered it up to him. "It's not much, but it's dry," I said.

He looked at it for a second, then shrugged, thanked me, and took my hat to start patting down the saliva off his neck and arms. "How about you?" he asked. "What'd they set up for you?" His eyes lighted on the mallet. "Are you Harley Quinn now? What the fuck, dude."

"No. Ugh, it was one of those mallet games," I told him, glad to be able to talk about it so soon after having completed it. Which instantly got me thinking that that was exactly what I wanted to do for the others when they were able to escape. Someone had to hear them out regarding what happened. "I just… took a souvenir."

"Game? The dumb little bell ring thingy?"

"Yeah, that."

"Dude, the fuck?" Endgame spat, glowering at me. "I had to run away from the fucking Leviathan and all you had to do was hit a weighted platform?"

"It wasn't that simple, asshole. I almost overexerted myself and then accidentally shot myself in the face from getting too reckless."

Endgame paused and looked me over. "You okay?" he asked.

"Fine now."

"Good." He finished patting himself as dry as he could, then stared down at my used up hat. "Guessing you don't want this back."

"Not particularly, no."

"Kay."

He slid on his sunglasses and tucked his feet up so the soles of his shoes were flat on the ground. Then he lifted up his sunglasses for a couple seconds and vaporized my hat. He shook his hand out from the heat and straightened his legs out again.

"Dude, did you have to do that?" I asked.

He shrugged. "It was evidence."

"You're getting comfortable with those boots, huh?"

Endgame looked down at them, then stretched his arms up over his head and sighed. "I'm all in, now, dude," he said. "I've gotta do what I can for the team. Y'know?"

I felt myself grin. Damn, was I glad I'd found a teammate so soon after quitting my game. And not just any teammate, but our newest addition. "Sure do," I answered. "It's… I dunno if I've said this enough, but it's great having you be a full part of the League, Endgame. We've gotten out of some seriously tight shit because of you."

"Don't get gushy on me," he warned. "But thanks."

I stood and offered him a hand. Endgame secured his sunglasses in place, tucked his wet chullo hat into his utility belt, and let me pull him up to standing. "Let's get away from these rivers," I decided, "and try to figure out some kind of plan." I hoisted up the mallet again as the two of us began walking toward the edge of the gate, aiming for the inauspicious shadow of a looming dead tree. I had no idea what I was going to do with the mallet, but an extra weapon was never a bad thing.

"You find anyone else?" I asked once we were far enough away from the attractions at the forked rivers.

"No, but the Human Kite and Guardian Angel are in here somewhere. And I just spoke with Mysterion," Endgame said. "His orders are find Cartman."

I stared at him. "That's it?" I asked. "Just… find him?"

"I mean, that's part of why we're here, right?"

"Yeah," I said, "part of why we're here. And believe me, I'm concerned for him and Red and all, but you were just in your own Hell, right?"

"Yeah, it sucked."

"Exactly. This place is fucked up and I'm not going to chase after someone Damien and Tenorman are probably keeping in extreme lockup when I know damn well where everyone else is supposed to be."

Endgame took a step back, and I tapped into the wire. "Hey, Mysterion?" I said forcefully. "You copy?"

"What's going on, Mosquito?" he answered.

"I'll tell you what's going on. By my count, I should have at least five other teammates in here and I've only found one."

"Good. You found Endgame. Did he tell you—"

"He did, and I'm sorry, but that plan sucks," I said. "I get that we need to locate Cartman, but you haven't been into one of these Circles yet, Mysterion. You don't know what's in there. Damien's playing us all against ourselves and I'm not going to abandon my team if they might be at all physically or emotionally compromised. Got that? So my plan is: wait it out. Endgame and I will set up a checkpoint, but I'm not taking one step further into the Bullseye until we're a team again."

"Mosquito—"

"Damien wants us split up. He wants us to be easy targets. Fuck that! We don't advance on them until we regroup."

Mysterion was silent for several seconds. I looked over at Endgame, who looked cautious but gave me a more or less encouraging shrug. Then, finally, Mysterion sighed and said, "You're right. You're absolutely right."

"What's that?" I asked, a little stunned.

"You're right. We approach with caution," he agreed. "We can't be hasty and risk someone getting hurt if we make the wrong move."

"Exactly," I said on a much-needed exhale. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath waiting for his response. "Sometimes the best move is to just not make one yet."

"You're absolutely right. But I need you to promise me something."

"What's that?"

"Don't wait for me."

I wanted to fucking punch him. "Excuse me?" I spat.

"Don't wait for me. If I get stuck—"

"Kenny, are you fucking stupid?!" I shouted. "Mysterion. Sorry. Fuck. Don't do this to me, man. We didn't follow you to R'lyeh and back just to not have your back ever again. For fuck's sake, dude. We do this as a team. We're not the Shadow League without you, and that's not how we're going to defeat Damien and the others. All right?"

He was silent again for another moment, and then I heard him laugh.

"What?" I wondered.

"Compound eyes," he answered. "You've got your sights on the bigger picture, Mosquito. Thanks."

I felt myself grin. "Just looking out for everyone," I said.

"I hope you realize how valuable you are, dude," Mysterion said.

"Uh… thanks," I managed. "Honestly, I haven't super been feeling that way lately."

"What, because of TupperWear?"

"Yeah, a lot of it's that."

"Dude, it wasn't your fault," Mysterion stressed.

"It really wasn't," Endgame added.

"We all make bad calls, Mosquito," Mysterion continued. "I was just about to make one, and you called me on my shit. That's why the team needs you. You're persistent. You don't give up. So, thanks for not giving up on the team. Listen, I'm sending in Chaos and Marpesia. Do what you can to back everyone up until I get there, all right?"

"Sure," I said, a little doubtfully. And then, out with it. "Mysterion, I'm sorry, but what exactly the hell are we doing letting Chaos back in? What happened to Harmony? Are we really trusting him again? We can't just…"

"We need to handle him with caution," Mysterion said, "I agree. But you've got to admit that he's our best defense against Disarray. He's the only one who can get rid of Disarray, maybe the only one who's a match for him at all. And it's Chaos who has to handle that, not Harmony."

I fought the urge to argue further. I still wasn't great friends with Butters, not after what Chaos had done to Bebe, to the entire town. I'd accepted Harmony into the League, but Chaos was asking a lot. Sure, Butters has made some personal improvements over the past few years, but he was still the same person who had allowed that to happen to him during the Cthulhu crisis. And maybe he wasn't a villain anymore, but I was hesitant to call him a hero. Even though I did have to admit that Mysterion was right. Chaos, and Chaos alone, had to stand up to Disarray.

I had no idea how we were going to kill someone who was already dead, but something like that seemed exactly like a piece of Chaos's MO. Just crazy enough to be attainable.

"All right," I relented. Getting back on track, I said, "I'll report back when Endgame and I have eyes on Toolshed, Kite, and Angel. And we'll be on the lookout for Chaos and Marpesia. Have them report directly to us when they enter the Carnival. Through the gate, turn left, we'll be under the tree."

"Thanks, Mosquito. We'll all be on our way to those asshole Ringleaders soon enough."

"We'd better."

– – –

Endgame and I waited by that dead tree looming over the gate for several minutes before I heard any additional news. And the only thing delivered to me at first was that Red Serge had requested more time. The kid had to have been onto something, but it didn't sit well with me.

I knew that Red Serge, Angel and Iron Maiden held down the fort just fine when the rest of us were out of town, but only one of them was solo mission material, and that was Angel. Red Serge was intel and defense, and he'd told me he liked being in that position. So whatever he had found further into the Carnival must have been good, for him to have gone completely stealth.

Plus, I was worried for him for more than just the fact that he was inexperienced with that sort of mission. He'd be leverage against Kite if the enemy caught him. The Broflovski brothers were close, and with Kite's short fuse, he'd probably lash out without thinking if Damien or Tenorman did anything to Red Serge. And the fact that I hadn't seen Kite return from his Carnival attraction yet had me concerned that Damien was getting to him.

"We need to trust Red Serge," said Delphi, who had delivered the news through my feed. "He may not be making a move because he'd be caught otherwise."

"I still don't like it," I said, sitting back against the iron gate. "I'm getting worried about everyone. It's still just me and Endgame here."

"I'm sure the others can't be far behind," Delphi offered. "Have faith, okay?"

Yeah, in Hell, I guess that was kind of the point. "All right," I said. "Thanks for being a voice of reason."

"It's what I do," she said, which got me to smile.

"I know," I told her. "And you're the best."

I didn't break at that point and tell her about my insecurities when it came to me and her. I wanted to, but this wasn't the time for it. Bebe knew that I loved her, and I knew she loved me, and we trusted one another to be strong and supportive. In our everyday lives, we were like a set of scales, always balancing each other out. But in the League, she really was like the oracle from which she'd derived her name. Delphi was my sounding board, my source of information, my voice of God, even. More than anything else, the one thing that carried over from our daily lives into the League was our strong sense of trust and loyalty.

So if she said Red Serge would be all right, then she was right.

I'd talk to her later. I'd tell her about my doubts, about my moments of weakness, about my fears of being headstrong and greedy. My fears of not being enough. And I knew she'd listen. And I knew that, whatever else happened, we'd be all right. She loved me, and I loved her, and that was what mattered. Sure, I wondered if I deserved her. Sure, I wondered if I'd fuck something up. But that was normal. We'd be all right. We'd be just fine. I couldn't wait to marry her.

"Oh, hey," said Delphi, "before you cut out…"

"What's up?" I asked.

"We just got word from… well… I'd say TupperWear, but—"

"But what?!" I burst. "What's going on? Where's Token?"

"Dude," said Endgame, tapping into the frequency. "He's not outta surgery. Is he?"

"He… he is," said Delphi. "And he's coming to help in whatever way he can."

"What," I said, too stunned to even make the word a question. I gathered my breath and tried again, "What… what? What the hell does he think he's doing?! And what do you mean, you'd 'say' TupperWear? Is he… shit, is he quitting on us? Delphi?"

"No," she said. "Quite, um… quite the contrary, actually."

"What does that mean?"

"He's—I know this is a little unorthodox, but he's opting for a name change. I'll let him talk to you when he gets here."

"How is he getting here?" I asked. "What's going on? He can't possibly walk again yet!"

I heard the smile in my fiancée's voice as she said, "You've got a stubborn team."

Endgame punched me lightly in the shoulder, and I let myself grin. "Thanks," I managed. "And, hey, if that's the case, tell what's-his-name to hurry up. I need a full report."

The call ended, and just like that, I felt a new wave of determination wash over me. Whatever it was Token was doing, I trusted him. What a stubborn asshole, coming right back into the fight after major surgery. What a Goddamn hero.

"Well, that's good news," Endgame noted.

"Yeah, no shit," I said. "Now I just wish I could get a visual on everyone else. What's taking Toolshed so long? And Kite? And Angel?"

"I dunno."

Endgame paused, and took a look around the grounds surrounding us. Not only had we not seen our teammates in quite some time, we still hadn't run up against any opposition. Either Damien and Tenorman knew we were out and were messing with us, or they really had no idea where we were. But as for the others…

"Hey, Mosquito."

"Yeah?"

"Didn't Mysterion say he was sending Chaos and Marpesia in?" Endgame asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"So… where are they?"

I glanced back at him, and, though it was difficult to follow his gaze behind his dark glasses, I shifted to stare off in the direction he seemed to be. He looked stern, if a little off-put. If something wasn't settling right with him, I knew it couldn't be good. He'd been looking at the entrance, at the Carnival gate, through which everyone had to pass. He was right—we should have seen them enter by now.

"There was a red mist on my ride," Endgame continued. "And Toolshed and I followed the red haze from the lamp to get in here."

"Right, so did Red Serge and I," I said. And yes… there had been red smoke around the games Damien had tried to force me to play.

And now there wasn't.

I turned to look back at Endgame again and said, "You're onto something. The lamp reflects the Between, right? So…"

"So there's either two Carnivals," Endgame finished, "or we really are at the center of some incredibly volatile rift or something."

Oh.

Shit.

No matter where we went on Carnival grounds, we were still within those iron gates. Everything within the gates, the volcano and every last ride and rickety building included, was Between one plane and another.

We hadn't seen Chaos and Marpesia enter, but they had most definitely walked right by us. It didn't matter where we walked—we wouldn't find our teammates until they passed through some kind of rift.

As long as we were within those gates, we were already at the Bullseye.

– – –

– – –

Authors' Notes:

South Park is -c- Matt Stone & Trey Parker.

I had fun with this one. It's been interesting getting into the different narrations; there are still a few unofficial narrators to go. Of all the new narrators, Craig and Clyde are by far my favorites to write. I'm also excited to get to Token's post-Leopard fight storyline (and his new hero name…), but we'll check in with some of the others first. Also... I believe I had mentioned this in an earlier chapter, but the one and only thing we're retconning from Cthulhu Fhtagn is Clyde's mom. There was only a brief mention of her in Cthulhu Fhtagn, and removing her doesn't detract from the story at all. But her death (which happened in show after Cthulhu Fhtagn was done) was huge for Clyde, and something I really wanted to work into his character for this story.

Next chapter is back to Kyle for Circle V. I can't get over the fact that his special attack in The Fractured But Whole is "Wrath of Kite" because that's, like… pretty literally what's coming up in chapter 20.

Thanks so much for reading and sticking with us!

~Jizena, and Rosie Denn~

– – –