You know what time it is? Time for the new chapter! Chapter seven. (I'm right this time). Anyways, there's a lot going on in this chapter. I won't give any details away, so you'll just have to read it for yourself.

I am so on a roll today. *drum rolls on my desk* XD I can't wait to start on chapter eight. You guys won't be disappointed. :D I promise.

For now, enjoy this chapter. It's certainly one of longest ones yet. (And possibly my personal best).

Just like Hogarth said, he told Dean and his mother about the Ursa that came after him and the stitchpunks. He even took them to where he hid the Ursa the very next day. It alarmed them both, but they were glad to know that Hogarth was alright and the stitchpunks unharmed. Dean took some parts from the Ursa to take to his junkyard. Mainly, the skull, two sets of limbs, one eye and the battery.

Upon arriving at the junkyard, Dean began studying it. Hogarth and the stitchpunks watched and listened. The battery had come from an old car. He wasn't surprised of the one who built it stole it from one of the used cars that scattered the junkyard. But that didn't mean Dean was to blame.

While keeping that in mind, Hogarth pored into his schoolwork and keeping the stitchpunks out of sight. They also helped Hogarth and his family around his head, mainly when Annie did the cleaning, and she would ask one of the four to reach into a small space she couldn't reach. It was a big help to Annie, and she let them know that.

Hogarth find a flyer for the Rockwell Young Artists Contest. It was an annual event that was held at the museum. There was food, music and the contestants presented their artwork, be it a painting, a sculpture, sketches, designs, etc.. Hogarth didn't show interest in the contest, but this year, he was inspired by the stitchpunks and the recurring flashbacks from the Giant. Hogarth didn't have a solid idea yet, but he had something already planned out. Which was why he asked the stitchpunks to search the junkyard for plastic flowers.

The stitchpunks had asked him what his idea was, but Hogarth wasn't going to give out his secrets.

While balancing his schoolwork, photography club, social life, he always found time to work on his project for the contest. He had entered the moment he found that flyer. The date for the unveiling was until November 18th. One week before Thanksgiving. While there was plenty of time until the contest, Hogarth was going to bide his time and use whatever free minute he had to search for beasts.

Even then, Hogarth didn't have the gall to tell his friends about them. He always found himself in this constant game of telling and keeping quiet. He wanted to tell his friend about the stitchpunks, but he was convinced that they would think they were only toys. The difference with the stitchpunks and the Giant was that the Giant was, well, a giant. He towered over the whole town. You could see him from at least several feet away at sea. If he was going to introduce his friends to the stitchpunks, he was going to have to prepare them. Not in the same way as with his mother and Dean, but perhaps a more extensive search on their machinations would come on handy.

It was mid October. Halloween was on the last Monday. He was looking forward to taking the stitchpunks out to town and showing them the costumes, the games, the food, everything. 3 and 4, hearing about Halloween, showed Hogarth what they learned about Halloween. They told him, through film projections, what they learned in the books they read. They showed him Halloween's long and ancient origin, which came as a surprise to Hogarth. It was typical of him to think Halloween was a "new" holiday from how many years he's celebrated it. But the twins assured him that it was okay to think that. Even so, Hogarth enjoyed learning something new.

Hogarth traipsed out of the history class, books in tow, when his friend's, Terence, voice grabbed his attention.

"Hogarth," he says, clapping his shoulder, "what are you going to be for Halloween?"

"I'm thinking of taking things up a notch," replied Hogarth.

"Like what?," asked Terrence.

"Last year I was a devil," quipped Hogarth proudly. "This year, I wanna go as a cyborg."

Terrence raised his brows. "Wow. So, are you, like, going to, uh, wear, like, a salad bowl on your head and make a costume out of a cardboard box?"

"I'm still working on it," said Hogarth. He started walking. Terrence followed.

"Tell me about the Giant again," he said as he and Hogarth strolled down the stairs.

"You know the story," clarified Hogarth, "you've heard it a bunch of times."

"I know, but I wanna hear it again. Especially the part where you were flying."

"That's my favorite part," said Hogarth.

Hogarth reached his locker, about to open it when he remembered that 9, 5 and 3 were in there. He had 4 in his backpack, and if he opened his locker and exposed them it was all mayhem from there.

Instead, Hogarth changed the subject. "Don't you have basketball today?"

Terrence blinked. "Uh, right," he replied confusedly.

"You'd better get going then. You don't want to be late."

"Sure."

Hogarth watched Terrence traipse through the corridor. As soon as he was lost in a sea of students, he turned back to his locker and unlocked it.

"That was close," he said upon opening his locker. He held out his hand for the stitchpunks. 9 was the first to step on his palm.

"What happened?," asked 5 as soon as 9 was safely tucked away in the backpack.

"My friend, Terrence," replied Hogarth, "he almost would've saw you if I hadn't distracted him."

"Good thinking," said 5.

3 was the last to be hidden in the backpack, and Hogarth closed the locker and made his way for the school entrance. Making his way to his bus, he found his usual seat and sat, eyes gazing at the double doors. The ride was spent in silence. The run-in with the Ursa still crept in his mind. Dean had some parts from its carcass, and he and Dean buried the rest of its body in that exact place. It was a good thing the shovel was in the trunk. Now he was hoping no one would see the burial site and get the wrong impression.

Once the bus arrived at his spot he got off, mind still brewing a storm. He glanced up at the treetops. He wanted to be sure that there wasn't a beast leaping through the branches up there. It was only a matter of time.

Seeing his house up ahead, he saw his mother's truck parked outside. She was already home. Dean's car wasn't parked, so he must still be at the junkyard. The tree sculpture should be done by now. He had asked Dean for help with his project for the upcoming artist contest. He just hoped his idea was good enough.

"Mom," shouted Hogarth, "I'm home!"

"How was school?," called Annie back, emerging from behind the doorway.

"Good." Hogarth made for the stairs. "I'm going to do my homework."

"Dinner will be in an hour," reminded Annie.

Hogarth went to his room, closed the door, and unzipped the backpack. The stitchpunks crawled out of the backpack.

"Okay, guys," said Hogarth, pulling out his books, "I've got all this math homework, plus something from English."

"I can help with the math," quipped 9. "And the twins can help with the English."

"Anything for me to help with?," offered 5.

"I've got some stuff for biology," replied Hogarth.

"Great, I can help with that."

Hogarth sat at his desk, with 9 perched on his shoulder. He watched as the boy solved the math problems. Hogarth had gotten better with 9's help, but he wanted to have him check it to see if it was correct. Whenever Hogarth struggled, the zippered stitchpunk carefully explained to him how to solve it. In about fifteen minutes, Hogarth was done with the math.

"Wow," he said, "that was easier than last time." He held out the paper.

"Just remember what I told you," said 9. "What you do to one side, you do to the other."

"I will."

Hogarth put the math homework away and set it aside. Next was the English. Pulling the textbook in from of it, he opened it to the assigned page and began looking through the list of questions.

"3, 4," he said to the hooded twins, "I think this is your cue."

The twins slid off his left shoulder, landing gracefully on the desk. Hogarth pulled out a blank sheet of paper from his notebook and got ready with a pencil in hand.

"They know this," said 9, checking the assignment. "I also seem to recognize it. I feel like I read it before."

"Have you?," uttered Hogarth.

"No. Maybe it's a memory from the Scientist. He probably read it once."

"Oh, well, let me get this homework done."

Hogarth spent the next twenty minutes going over the questions with the twins, who were exceptionally helpful. 9 stayed by Hogarth's side, translating the twins' flickers. By the time he finished it was nearly close to dinnertime. And he heard a car pull in. Dean was home.

"I'm starved," he said, getting up from the chair. He looked over at 5 and said, "You can help me with the biology after dinner."

"All right," said 5.

Hogarth exited the room and made his way downstairs. Dean was already in the kitchen before he did.

"Hi, Dean," greeted Hogarth.

"Hey, Hogarth," said Dean. "How was school?"

"It was great," said Hogarth, sitting down beside him. "The stitchpunks really liked watching the classes."

"I bet."

"3 and 4 helped me with my English homework," said Hogarth, "although I wish they had voices. It'd be much easier to understand what they say."

"Did 9 or 5 tell you what they were saying?," asked Annie, bringing in the bowl of potato salad.

"9 did most of the translating," replied Hogarth. "But sometimes I wish the Scientist gave them voice boxes."

"Hmm." Annie tapped a finger on her chin. "There must've been a reason for him not giving them voices."

"What do you mean, Mom?," asked Hogarth.

"I mean," said Annie as she turned away to and headed back in the kitchen, "that the Scientist must not have wanted the twins to have voices."

"Why would he not want them to have voices?" Hogarth still wasn't understanding. "Having a voice makes talking easier."

"You think so?," said Annie as she brought in the plate of breaded chicken. "Because there are some people who can't talk."

"That's right," quipped Dean. "Some people are born mute. And they can only communicate through sign language and gestures."

Hogarth didn't respond.

"And not to mention the people who are selective mute," pointed out Dean, pointing. "They in turn can speak, but choose to not. Why? Out of fear, mostly. Because they know firsthand what speaking can do if voiced at the wrong time."

"Let me ask you," quipped Annie as she served Dean his plate. "Would the Giant have been able to talk if you hadn't taught him?" She grabbed another plate and piled it with potato salad and nice piece of breaded chicken.

Hogarth paused before answering. "I don't know." He really had no idea since he hadn't thought about that in the last several years.

"Would you be able to talk if I hadn't spent days talking to you?," retorted Annie.

This brought a small smirk from Hogarth. "No, I guess not."

"So," said Dean after a bite of potato salad, "in light of what we're saying; the twins probably don't have voices like us because they wouldn't serve any use."

"And from what we've seen," said Annie, "3 and 4 are very expressive. Voice or no voice. They get their message across. From the projections they shows with their eyes to their gestures, those are their voices."

Hogarth took a bite of breaded chicken, mulling her words over.

"I never thought of it that way," he said. "5 and 9 understand them better than I can, and even if I did understand them I'd still need them to translate what they're saying."

"And that's all right," said Dean, "you just have to find a way to communicate."

"How?"

"You understood the Giant better than anyone," commented Dean. "I think you can understand two little living dolls that flash lights out of their eyes."

Hogarth couldn't argue with him there. But he was right. He can find a way to communicate with the twins that would be convenient to him.

As soon as dinner was through, Hogarth helped with the cleaning and then drifted back to his bedroom.

"Hey, Hogarth," said 9.

"Hey," repeated Hogarth.

"Ready to get started on that biology homework?," quipped 5, looking giddy.

"You bet." Hogarth outstretched a hand for 5. The one-eyed stitchpunk stepped on, and Hogarth walked him back to the desk. Opening it to page fifty, he and 5 got started on the questions.

An hour passed with Hogarth going through the questions with 5. He was helpful when it came to certain parts he didn't understand, and the one-eyed stitchpunk would explain it to him step by step, so he could get the answers right. 3, 4 and 9 watched from the nightstand, wondering how he was doing, but also glad that the boy was putting effort into his studies.

The last question of the homework was a rather easy one and Hogarth managed to answer it on his own without 5's help.

"Done," hooted Hogarth, closing the textbook. He put his pencil back in the pencil jar and turned around. He stood up and walked over to the shelf opposite his bed. He picked up the miniature trinket box. Opening it, the talisman's symbols gleamed in the lamplight. "Still here," he said in relief.

He convinced 9 to keep the talisman in that little box, explaining that it'd be better than having to carry it everywhere. And he was right.

Hogarth walked back to his desk, pulling out his sketchbook. He opened it to the next available page. He was going to need to buy a new one soon, especially with the contest coming soon. In the blank page he wrote "Techno Organics." He closed the book, leaving the pencil in to remember what page he left off.

With that, he opted to get some ideas for his piece for the art contest.

Another week passed before that Halloween. Hogarth remembered that it was on the last Monday of the month. Keeping that in mind, he had his plans for his costume already planned out. Like he told Terrence, he was indeed going to dress up as a cyborg. Only, he decided to make his costume a little...authentic. He bought a knight armor set from a costume store. Then dug through the barn and found a rusted funnel to use as a helmet. As for the rest, he figured that a bit of face paint would suffice. All he needed now was to find something that could pass for a robotic eye.

The stitchpunks, who had never celebrated Halloween before, wanted to participate in the dressing up part. Hogarth asked his mother if she had any of her old doll clothes hidden in the attic. Sadly, Annie replied that she had given them to her cousins when they were young. Crestfallen, Hogarth appreciated her honest answer, but he came up with another idea. He asked her if she could have new doll clothes made. Annie was skilled in sewing, why not have the stitchpunks were homemade costumes?

Annie liked the idea and got started on making them right after her son suggested it.

With that done, Hogarth found the time to make his entry for the art contest. He did his work in the barn and hid his project under a tarp whenever Annie or Dean went into the barn to find a tool or something of the sort. Hogarth was serious about keeping his project secret. He was going to unveil it on the day of the contest.

Today was Wednesday. Photography club wasn't until tomorrow. Hogarth strolled through the hallway on his way to his locker, get the stitchpunks and head home. He hoped he didn't have to run into his friends again. He hoped they don't catch a glimpse of the stitchpunk when he opens his locker. Locking both ways, he opened his locker, held out his opened backpack and grabbed his geography book and two notebooks. The stitchpunks were huddled inside the backpack and the boy zipped it closed.

Closing the locker, he dashed down the hall, watching both ways, and made his way out the door.

Getting to the bus, he realized that he, Duncan and Terrence were the only ones on the bus. Michael had yearbook club today.

"So, Hogarth, have you thought about what costume you're gonna wear?," asked Duncan.

"Yeah," replied Hogarth.

"I'm going as Frankenstein," retorted Terrence.

"Wicked," quipped Duncan.

"I'm going with the cyborg idea," declared Hogarth.

"You're really going with that?," queried Terrence. Hogarth nodded. "Cool."

"I've been making it myself."

"Really?," said Duncan.

"Yeah."

"Can't wait to see it," quipped Terrence.

The bus ride was short, what with Hogarth and his friends conversing, which is what made their ride seem short. The three disembarked and headed to their homes. Hogarth trekked through the forest trail, watching a rain of autumnal leaves fall from the trees. He removed his backpack, unzipped it, and carried it the rest of the way.

"Look at that," he said, keeping his eyes to the treetops.

3 and 4 flickered their optics, smiles on their faces.

5 chuckled. "So this is autumn?"

"Sure is."

"I'm sure we'll get to see this in our world," said 9, "when we get back, that is."

Hogarth held out a hand and a yellow leaf landed on his palm.

"Until you go back to your world," spoke Hogarth, "you can collect some souvenirs."

3 and 4 nodded at his idea. This time though, Hogarth was going to make an effort to understand them. They flashed lights from their optics so rapidly it was hard to keep up. Maybe he should start with tapping his hands on the desk, like a form of Morse code.

Hogarth arrived at the house to see his mother's truck, and to his surprise, Dean's car parked behind hers. This was out of the ordinary.

He traipsed inside, finding him sitting at the armchair.

"Dean?," said Hogarth.

"Hey," said Dean.

"What's going on?"

Annie drifted in to the living room.

"Dean sold the new sculpture he was working on," said Annie, "and got paid double what he was suppose to earn. So Dean's decided to take us out to eat tonight."

"Oh boy," said Hogarth, "where are we gonna go?"

"We were thinking of heading to that fancy restaurant," replied Annie, "Le Toit Affamé."

"Mm, sounds good," said Dean, he turned to Hogarth and said, "We're gonna be going in an hour, so you might want to take the stitchpunk upstairs and read them the ground rules.

Hogarth had almost forgotten. He was so enraptured with this piece of good news that he forgot that he'd gave to leave them alone while he and his parents went out.

"Oh right," he said. He opened how backpack a little more and peered in. "Guys, uh—"

"Don't worry about us," said 5. "We'll be all right."

Hogarth raised a brow. "Are you sure?" He tried to sound more convincing. "Because I can stay if you want."

"No," piped 9, "you go with your family. Enjoy yourself."

Hogarth was still unconvinced.

"Go," said 9, "have one day to yourself. No need for forest hikes to find beasts."

That's what I'm worried about, he wanted to say, but Hogarth only kept quiet and mulled over his thoughts. Despite his mind telling him to stay, his heart told him to just go with it.

"Okay," said Hogarth, "I'll leave you guys here." He made his way upstairs. "Just be careful and don't go near the window or someone might see you." He continued his spiel as he traipsed upstairs.

Annie lightly chuckled, listening to her son's voice instruct the four stitchpunks.

The car pulled in to the driveway, parking right behind the truck. Dean removed the key from the ignition, the headlights going out as he did. Hogarth, loosening his tie, got out of the car and made for the front door.

"I'm gonna go check on the guys," he said to Dean over his shoulder.

"Here." Dean tossed the house keys to Hogarth, who caught them in his hand, and traipsed up the porch steps. He unlocked the door, opened it and took the time to turn on the porch light.

Hogarth charged up the stairs, excitement brewing in him. He opened his bedroom door and found the stitchpunks sitting at his bed, looking like they were deep in conversation.

"Hi, guys," he said. The four turned to look at him.

"Hey, Hogarth," said 9.

"How was dinner?," asked 5.

"It was great," replied Hogarth, walking toward them. He dropped to his knees and perched his elbows on the mattress. "I had this stir-fried salmon with lime and basil and other stuff."

"That sounds good," said 5. Being a non-eating creature, he wasn't sure how to word it.

"It tasted really tart," he said, "really had this minty taste."

3 and 4 flickered their optics at him. Before 9 or 5 could jump in, Hogarth stopped them and kept his eyes on the twins.

"Wait," said Hogarth, "I'm trying to see if I can understand them this time."

He squinted his eyes from the twins' flashing obfuscating his vision, making him blink a few times. He tried to look past that and focused on how many times their optics flickered. He tried to find a speech pattern. Hogarth raised a brow as he tried to come up with an assumption.

"I think they're telling me," he said to 9 and 5, "that they're glad that I had a good time with Dean and Mom."

5 raised his brow. "That's impressive." It gladden him to see Hogarth making an effort to understand the twins.

"I'll say," commented 9, who was more than impressed to see him try and understand.

3 flickered to him again. And this time, Hogarth wasn't going to need 9 and 5's help translating.

"He's saying," began Hogarth, focusing on the hooded stitchpunk, "that he wants me...to show them...one of my...comics."

"Is that true?," asked 5, raising his one brow.

"I think so," said Hogarth, "I'm still trying this, you know."

"Well, that's understandable," quoth 9.

Hogarth went to his small bookcase, pulled out a comic book, and went back to the bed. The stitchpunks moved to the nightstand to allow Hogarth to lie down on his bed, and they could watch from there. 3 and 4 scampered toward Hogarth, and gently sprawled around his arms.

Opening it to the first page, Hogarth got to doing what he does best; sharing his favorite comic books.

The comic book he picked out wasn't a Superman comic or an Atomo issue. It was a new one that came out in July. The one he was holding was the third issue. The fourth wasn't until next month. The comic book was called Celestial Mechanics. It was set in a time period reminiscent to the steampunk genre where the protagonists explore a wasteland brought on by a nuclear apocalypse. Their only hope was to search for a messianic figure who would free them from the tyranny of the ones who started the apocalypse; the Sterilizers. The messiah figure, who goes by the name of Archsoul. Hogarth showed the page where the Archsoul appears. The Archsoul was a woman with long, trailing hair the color of snow with large, majestic angel-like wings to match. The Archsoul's backstory explains that she was born three months after the fallout, and had been in hiding after she was six years of age. The reason for her possessing wings despite her parents not having any wings. Hogarth explains that she was born from when her parents might've come into contact with a poison from the nuclear explosion.

"The Archsoul is twenty-six years old," said Hogarth, "so she really spent most of her life hiding with that old man who was a friend to her parents."

"But," spoke 5, "why did she continue to live in that shack after the old man died?"

"Fear of getting captured," replied Hogarth, shrugging. "Besides, I think it would be obvious to see a girl wandering around with wings sticking out of her back."

"Can't she fly?," asked 9.

"Yeah, but she prefers to walk, and comes out strictly at night."

"When does the main character meet her?," quipped 5.

"He meets her at the end of this issue," said Hogarth, "I'm still waiting for the next issue to come out. I heard that the author is pushing it back two months. I can understand; the life of an artist isn't easy. Which reminds me, your friend...6, is he...all right?" Hogarth couldn't think of a better word that didn't sound offensive.

"He doesn't draw the source anymore, if that's what you're asking," responded 9.

"The source?"

"The talisman."

"Oh."

"And he is right," said 5. "The talisman is how we were brought to life. The Scientist built it, so, henceforth, calling it the source."

"Nifty."

Hogarth read the last two panels, and after he flipped back to pages eleven to twelve. This was the page where the villains had this portal in their lab. Looking at it, he saw how the scientists activated it: by pulling a lever on the supercomputer that was placed in the center of the lab. The wires were hooked to that supercomputers which is how it was powered. Hogarth looked at the keystone. The round red light that glowed when the machine activated.

Suddenly an idea formed in his mind.

He looked at the shelf across from his bed, at the little keepsake box he had the talisman hidden in.

Could he possibly have the gall to build a portal like the one in his comic? It looked easy enough, but that was only because it was shown in the comic, but it took more work to construct one. Hogarth probably could, but he didn't have the special tools to build one. What could he use to build a portal like the one in the comic? Maybe it didn't have to be like the one in the comic. Just construct one with the power to be opened with the talisman. 9 said that the talisman was built to restore life in his world, so why can't it be used to open gateways to other dimensions?

This was possibly going to get him in trouble. The hype with the Giant was trouble enough, now he needed the town to go crazy with a portal that opened other gateways. No, he couldn't. Besides, he didn't have the special training required to build a portal. Hogarth was smart, but if he wanted to build something like this, he was going to need years of training.

This was just a fantasy he was creating. The way the stitchpunks came to his world was unknown and unheard of. Was it magic? Or something more scientific? He didn't know, but one thing he did know was that he wasn't going to stop fighting.

Halloween.

Every building in Rockwell was decorated with either homemade decorations or store bought. Children paraded around the streets in those costumes, of which were either purchased at a costume store or homemade. Candy was being handed out to the trick-or-treaters. Jack-o-lanterns dotted every porch step, a candle alit in its cavity. In the town square, activities such as bobbing for apples were being held. A pumpkin carving contest was being held in the park, and a few yards off the children played with their costumes on. A particular group played a Halloween version of duck, duck, goose; in this case, the game was called ghost, ghost, ghoul.

Hogarth checked himself in the mirror one last time before he could go out with his friends. His cyborg costume was complete. He did indeed use face paint on himself to make it look more real. Hogarth had the cuirass on, and he had his left arm clad in the vambraces and gauntlet. His left leg was dressed in the greaves and sabatons. An old rusty bowl sat atop his head. Hogarth took two tubes from a broken vacuum cleaner to stick out of the cuirass. And for the final touch, he found a broken monocle in the junkyard and taped an eyepiece to work as the bionic eye.

In short, he looked like a prototype for the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz. Hogarth liked it and he wanted to blow his friends' minds.

"How do I look?," he asked the stitchpunks as he turned around.

"Fantastic," said 9, smiling.

"Thanks," replied Hogarth. "You guys look great, too." 4 shot him a pointed glare. "And girl."

True to her word, Annie finished the doll clothes she promised the stitchpunks. And all of them turned out great. 9 was dressed in a black cape and top hat. 5 was wearing a navy blue jacket and atop his head, a pirate hat from one of Hogarth's old pirate toys. 3 was decked in a white ghost costume that included sleeves, to make it easier to get around. And finally 4, whose costume looked by far the best: a pink short-sleeved dress made from a Chanel fabric and a silk butterfly was sewn onto the back, where the antennas just so happened to stick behind 4's head. A fairy costume that was so authentic that even town girls would envy.

"Are you sure you guys don't want to come?" Hogarth asked for what seemed like the fifth time.

"We're sure," answered 5.

"Nobody's going to see you; you'll all be in my trick-or-treat bag." Hogarth held up the black canvas bag with a picture of a jack-o-lantern on it.

"It's all right," said 9.

Hogarth's face fell. He walked over to his bed.

"Let me take you guys downstairs," he offered. He held out the canvas bag; the four jumped in.

Hogarth trudged down the stairs. Walking felt like an effort with the armor he was wearing. He skipped the last two steps and found Dean dressed as a grim reaper, plastic scythe held in his hand.

"Hey," he said, "lookin' great."

"Thanks," said Hogarth. He held his bag over the end table, allowing easy exit for the stitchpunks.

"Happy Halloween," said Annie, emerging from the kitchen with a bowl of candy. She was dressed as a witch.

There was a knock on the door.

"Our first trick-or-treaters," said Dean, gripping the doorknob. He quickly motioned for the stitchpunks to hide. All four of them jumped off the table and sprinted toward the couch, circling it and hid under the coffee table.

Dean opened the door, ready to give the trick-or-treaters a scare. His grin disappearing when he realized who it was. Hogarth's friends.

"Oh, guys," he said lukewarmly.

"Hi, Mr. McCoppin," said Duncan, waving.

"May we come in?," asked Michael.

"Be my guest," replied Dean, moving aside. The three entered the house.

Hogarth took on their costumes. Terrence did indeed dress up as Frankenstein, complete with the face paint and the intricate detail to the stitches on his forehead. Duncan was dressed as a pumpkin and Michael as a dog.

"Hi, guys," said Hogarth.

"Hogarth, you gotta turn on your radio," said Duncan. Immediately, he, and Terrence and Michael made their way to the living room. Hogarth, who was worried they would see the stitchpunks, was relieved to see the four circle the couch and made their way toward the end table once again.

"What's going on?," asked Hogarth.

While Duncan was trying to find the right station, Terrence stepped up to explain the situation.

"We heard in town," he said, "about an interview with an explorer in Siberia, who was saved by a 'giant, humanoid shadow in the blizzard.'"

Giant humanoid shadow in the blizzard. Hogarth's eyes widened at the sudden rush of realization.

"The Giant," he said in a voice so low he might as well not have been heard.

"There," said Duncan, standing up after finding the right station. He took a seat on the couch. Terrence and Michael also joined him.

The interviewers voice resonated from the radio. Dean and Annie, intrigued by the mere mentions of the Giant, gathered round the living room, both of them standing.

"Can you tell us again about the thing you saw?," the interviewer asked in his gruff voice. Next came the explorer's voice.

"Well," he began, "I was trekking through the Altai Mountains. This was before the storm hit. I had spent the entire day climbing to the top. It was sunset when I finally made it to the top. I felt invincible. I was looking at the entire place. All the snow, the way the sun shined on the snow's surface was breathtaking.

"I got ready to make the descend when a strong wind blew in from the north. The snow started to fall. Then it got stronger. As I struggled to keep from falling, the entire world was white. It was like I was surrounded by a white wall. Then my rope was starting to snap, I had to be quick. With no one else to search for me, and the chalet closing I was gonna spend the night climbing down that mountain.

"My fingers were so numb I thought I was going to need them amputated. Frost was on my face. My eyes were dry. And I thought I was going to freeze right there. The rope was beginning to wear thin and I was done for. I had been on a part of the mountain where the rock was weak and broken. That blistering blizzard really made it hard to see. I might as well not been going anywhere.

"Then, the ground beneath me began to crumble. I was going to die right there...or I would've... I fell on an even colder structure. It was metal, I could tell. I saw a pair of glowing eyes through the snow. I didn't know what I was looking at. Then I heard the ground shake. I looked around. I couldn't see anything but those eyes. And I knew right then that it was carrying me away from the mountain. I could hear its giant footsteps echoing throughout the blizzard.

"The shape carried me to the chalet. Well, not at the chalet, but a few yards off. It let me down and I jumped off. I looked back and saw the towering shadow. It was like the size of a skyscraper from New York, maybe even taller. But I never forgot about its glowing eyes."

There was a pause. Hogarth listened to every word the explorers said. His heart leaped within his chest. His ears broke down each word that was spoken. He tried to imagine what it'd been like for the explorer and wished that he could take the explorer's place.

He looked over his shoulder to see that stitchpunks had made their way to the couch. 9 looked like he was ready to climb it. He decided to make of easier on him and picked him up. He hid him in the bag. He continued listening.

"And," spoke the interviewer, "did you ever see this...shadow again?"

"No," said the explorer, "I tried looking for him the next day. And the next. By the fourth day, it was my last day at the lodge, and had to pack up everything. No one at the chalet saw the shape, but they knew that I was not making it up."

The next minute the interviewer spoke Hogarth could sense something in his voice.

"Would you believe that you were rescued by the Giant of Rockwell?"

Hogarth's heart leaped. 9's head poked out of the bag, optics blinking.

"The Giant of Rockwell?," said the explorer shakily. "I... I don't know. No one has seen or heard of him in years. I've been to Rockwell two years ago. I saw the statue in the town square. Real nice. Intricately made."

"Thank you very much," said Dean as the man on the radio could actually hear him. Annie smirked and shook her head, eyebrow arched.

"Well, all of us have heard about the heroic sacrifice the Giant made to save the town of Rockwell," stated the interviewer. Hogarth couldn't help but agree with him. "Rockwell's become more popular than it was before the Giant."

"Yes, well," the explorer said. There was another pause.

"Samuel?," asked the interviewer.

"Nothing, Frank," replied Samuel the explorer. "It's just... Well, the Giant. The missile. Outer space. Where could he have gone afterward?"

"Are you doubtful of the Giant's resurface?," queried Frank.

"No. I'm just...I was just thinking about the Giant's friend." There was a trace of sympathy in Samuel's voice. "Uh, Howard...Horace..."

"Hogarth," corrected Frank. It made Hogarth roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Yes, him," uttered Samuel, "he knew the Giant. And now here we are three years later...I just wonder if he's hearing about all this."

Frank chuckled. "Well, I, no doubt about, guess that he's probably listening in on this interview now. Or he could be off with his friends and frolicking around town for Halloween."

Samuel muttered something Hogarth couldn't make out.

"And that—" Dean turned the radio off.

"That's enough of that," he stated.

"Aww," groaned Duncan.

Before any of his friends could say anything, Hogarth hid his bag behind his back, while wordlessly instructing 3, 4 and 5 to hide somewhere.

"I wanted to hear the rest," complained Michael.

Dean was not having it. "You can hear all you want another day. Maybe in a rerun."

Duncan frowned.

Hogarth turned around and spotted 3 and 4 sprint toward the floor-to-ceiling bookcase. His eyes quickly spotted Terrence about to stand up she he turned in the same direction the twins were going. Instinct kicked in.

"Hey, what are those?," asked Terrence, keeping his eyes on the bookcase.

Hogarth quickly sped and stood on front of the bookcase, almost knocking Dean over.

"Who, whoa, where's the fire?," groused Dean.

Hogarth gingerly picked 3 by the waist and dropped him in his bag. He did the same with 4.

"Nothing," said Hogarth, spinning around. His grin was made more comical with the face paint.

"No, I saw something," insisted Terrence. His green face paint made him look the more menacing as the real Frankenstein.

Hogarth stood his ground. He'd been wanting to introduce them to his friends for a while and now seemed like the good time. He'd been holding back on account of needing to keep his friends safe. He was going to need everyone's help in this.

Letting the bag to his chest, he peered down at the three stitchpunks, who shared the same worry.

"Guys," spoke Hogarth; Terrence quirked a brow, "I...I'd like you to meet..." He held out the bag for his friends to see. "My new friends, the stitchpunks."

"Huh?," uttered Duncan, standing up. He trudged over to Terrence and peeked over his shoulder. Three sets of camera optics stared back at him.

"H-Hi," said 9 timidly. The twins only flickered.

"Whoa." Duncan backed away, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, now..." Terrence raised a brow, not sure whether to believe it or think it was a dream.

Michael, the only one who hadn't seen the stitchpunks, sidled over to Hogarth's side and peered at the living ragdolls.

"Are they...," he said, it came out more forced than he intended; he sounded like he was swallowing a rock, "are they like...like..."

"Like?," asked Hogarth, raising a brow.

"The Giant?," finished Michael. He hoped he didn't offend Hogarth, or made it worse. But to his surprise, Hogarth maintained a neutral face and calmly sighed.

"It's okay," said Hogarth evenly. He was about for keep speaking when he suddenly remembered another certain stitchpunk. "Where's 5?" His head twisted in big directions, eyes bulging.

"Over here," said 5's voice.

Hogarth turned around and saw the one-eyed stitchpunk emerging from under the armchair. The sheepish smile on his face let Hogarth know he was all right.

"There you are." Hogarth knelt down, held out his canvas bag and 5 leaped in. All four of them were now present.

"Hogarth," quoth Duncan, "what...are they?"

Hogarth knew then that this would take a lot of time to explain. Of which he could do tomorrow with more time and patience.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," said Hogarth. "For now, let's enjoy ourselves. Have fun."

"I like the sound of that," quipped Terrence.

"Same here," declared Duncan. Michael only smiled.

Before the four boys could leave, Duncan spoke up.

"Can I have one of them?"

"Sure," replied Hogarth.

"Can I have the one with the zipper?," asked Terrence.

"Sorry, but 9 sticks with me."

Terrence scowled.

"I want the one with the eyepatch," announced Duncan, holding up a finger.

"Here." Hogarth held out the black bag, each stitchpunk gawking at the curious humans. Duncan held out his hand. 5 nervously climbed over the bag and stepped on the boy's hand, who continued to stare at him in.

"Can I have the one with the wings?," asked Michael. Hogarth nodded and Michael gingerly plucked 4 from the bag and put her in his own trick-or-treat bag.

"Guess that just leaves you and 3," said Hogarth.

Terrence shrugged and allowed for exchange to be made.

"Have fun, boys," said Annie.

4 flickered her optics at Annie, fascinating Duncan and Michael.

"Mom," reminded Hogarth.

"Oh, sorry, boys and girl," corrected Annie.

Hogarth turned to look at Michael. "She is in fact a girl." He pointed a finger at the hooded stitchpunk. Michael blinked.

"Okay, let's hit the road!," chirped Hogarth.

The four, along with their stitchpunk companions with their human buddy, traipsed out the door. Their cheers could be heard even after they were off the porch and running down the trial.

Whoa man. O.O I bet you never expected to see that. Yeah. I don't know when the Giant will appear, just that he will. This is just a preview before the big thing. (Cut me some slack, I'm only one person).

Also, the whole "the twins don't have voices because they didn't want them" theme is from a confirmed theory from the 9 fandom. Not really a theory, more like a fact.

Look out for chapter eight.