"I was so scared then, but in a way it was really fun. I mean, every boring day had been just the same for me. But this, this was the beginning of a real adventure!" - Max

Arc fingered a book on the shelf, leaving a trail in the dust. "You don't use these at all?" How could someone have such aged books and never use them? It was like shoving a beautiful tapestry into the basement because it didn't keep anything warm.

Hag shook her wizened head. "My eyes have not weathered the years well, so I don't read so much anymore."

"Can I?"

"Please! I'd hate to see them rot for the rest of time on those shelves. Take them all, if you want. Keep them. It would give me great joy to know they've found a better home."

Arc stared. "… Keep them?"

"Yes, yes! They've become a bit of a bother, were I honest."

Arc couldn't believe his ears and gingerly removed one volume and to flip through some pages. The paper was weathered and worn, discolored with age, and smelled like any old book did. Arc breathed in, savoring the sensation.

"Or," Hag said, "I suppose you could treat them to a picnic by candlelight instead. I've got some incense hidden behind those boxes, you know."

Arc blushed, snapping the book closed. "Uh, thanks." Casted mini and slipped them into his bag. "I'll be in the windmill if anyone needs me."

"Good choice. Dran's magic is something special, isn't it?"

"That and the quiet."

He bade Hag farewell and thanks, then left to find the Windmill that creaked with the movement of the windmill blades, lit by the warm light of what had to be enchanted torches.

It was warm inside despite the early spring temperatures and he smelled a magical residue reminiscent of fae territory.

Resolving himself, Arc took a breath and opened his satchel. With a wave, the books lifted up and out, the natural tree parts within answering his command to come closer. He canceled the mini enchantment and pushed just slightly against their descent. They floated to the ground with soft thumps.

Next he pulled out a long roll of paper that the mayor lent him. It was a smaller than he hoped, but it would get the job done.

He pulled out the journal and that with the paper on top of a crate and stacked the books next to those. The journals should provide the majority of the information he needed. First, he needed a general map. He had acquired one from Hag, who had one in her storage that she said some young suitor had given her, and he referenced that with Aga's journal.

Arc took the charcoal in his hands and sketched out a rough diagram of what the natives called "Blue Terra." He had scarce information on the far north and south, but he got a good idea of what the main land looked like, so he started with a vague outline of Norune and the surrounding country. The farmland stretched to the river that divided most of it from the forest area.

"Matataki?" Arc whispered to himself. "Is that the name?"

The desert and coast were harder. He hadn't just spent a the last day wandering those borders, as opposed to Norune's area, so he barely ghosted along the page a faint charcoal line of a guess at the outline of territory. He wrote in his native language in the largest letters, then added a careful tracing of the names as found in Hag's books.

The languages were similar, for the most part. Even the written words. But he didn't have a few months to learn the differences now, assuming Toan was as fast and capable as everyone implied him to be. Depending on Topapa and Cid, Arc could have mere days left to get this all down, and Odin help him if he didn't have something to bring back to Saronia's libraries.

He pulled out his journal and reviewed notes. Queens couldn't be that big, could it? He looked between the territories, spinning the charcoal in his hands. With a huff, he set that down and took out Aga's journal and Hag's map. Aga claimed the border to end at a city called "Brownboo," but Hag's map didn't mention anything like that.

"How old are you?" Arc asked Hag's map. "How young was 'young?'"

Too young, probably. He set the small map that he'd been inspecting aside and added a squiggly line on his larger one, turning Matataki into more of a foot shape than an oval.

Blue Terra was pretty quick to assemble, and soon Arc added the western hemisphere. They'd traveled the place enough for him to know the land like the back of his hand. Some of the proportions be a hair off, but not enough for most to notice. Eventually, he would put together a more sophisticated version anyway.

The resources here were surprising, given the village's remote location and limited population, but it still was nothing compared to what he could work with in Saronia. Not much point in making it too precise here. He'd have to twist Alus' ankle, maybe, or sneak through some passages in the Library, but when they got back, he would have an updated, complete map waiting to be put up in the Palace.

Arc smiled as he pictured it hanging with his name scribbled in near-illegible letters in the corner. Most people wouldn't know that name, but he could say that he contributed to the world's history – the very first full map, as far as he knew, that would depict all four continents. There were other maps, yes, but at this point, they would have all become outdated, thanks to the cloud of darkness barring the eastern continent from the west.

Ingus stared at the wall, propped up as he was against the wall of Renee's home. It was a small house, and cozy. Too big for two people, going by the standards followed by the rest of the village, and made especially evident when Arc's mother easily fit another bed next to Ingus, where Arc slept at night.

This house was missing people. The brother and their father, most likely.

A spring breeze wafted in through an open window, warm and inviting. He could hear the villagers bustling to finish one of the first plants of the season before the next cold spell set in. Maybe when Arc came back in, Ingus would see where he could help. However long that might take.

A sharp pain shot through Ingus' body, a harsh reminder of his state. He ached still with the healing wounds in his chest and forehead, bandages wrapped tightly around each one. Luneth and Refia went to seek answers and hunt evil, and Ingus was not only incapable of doing anything to help, but he was confined to a crystal-forsaken bed.

They'd succeeded in their quest, at least. But Ingus didn't feel relief. He felt like they were missing something critical, instead.

We're with you, the Crystals said. There's more to do. Your friends are fine. For now, at least.

The door opened, and Arc's mother came in. She glanced his way and set down a basket of… blades of grass? They were green, long, and sharp like grass, but too vibrant and uniform to be simple weeds. Not that he knew much about plants.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

"I progress faster than I thought I might." All wounds inflicted without the protection of the Crystals healed much slower. If that man just hadn't kept shooting, Ingus wouldn't be in this inane predicament.

"Those bullets are dangerous," she said with a disgusted sigh. "Weapons these days, they're all lead and poison. They're going to kill more people with disease and infection than anything else."

Ingus touched his forehead. The Crystals prevented the worst of the damage, but it was still going to scar. At least those strange machines were probably less painful. "Where might Arc be?"

"Studying," Renee said. "He's barely stepped away from those maps since he got here."

Typical. Nothing like discovering another land and history to distract the boy. "I'd like to go outside," Ingus announced, sliding off the bed. "May I ask for assistance?"

Renee was one step ahead of him, darting over the moment he moved. "Of course! What do you need?"

"To speak with Arc."

Renee took his arm across her shoulder and accepted his weight with surprising strength. The stress on his torso hurt but didn't threaten to tear the wounds open again. Each step pained him, but thankfully they were smart enough to keep him on the ground floor instead of moving him upstairs where Renee slept, so it took only a few difficult strides to get to the front door.

"He's at Dran's windmill," Renee said, angling them in that direction. "He just started, so things might be a bit of a mess."

Luneth had mentioned, once or twice, Arc's habit of throwing things everywhere when he got into a project, but Ingus was still taken aback when Renee knocked and opened the door to reveal papers and maps and books scattered over every surface, including the floor where Arc looked up at their entrance.

"Ingus!" Arc stood, careful not to disrupt whatever organization existed in the chaos he arranged. "Why aren't you resting?"

He shook his head. "Lay too long and your body's ability to heal diminishes. Moderate movement is key for expedited recovery."

"Oh."

"Can we speak privately?" Ingus asked. Renee nodded and left quietly. He felt bad cutting her out, but if she had any idea what he was going to do, she would almost certainly stop them.

"What's wrong?" Arc asked once the door shut. Ingus waited until he was sure the woman was gone. His ears hadn't been quite been the same since the incident, so it took a bit of straining to hear the distant thumping of her shoes down the steps.

"We need to go," Ingus said at length. "And keep Luneth from getting himself killed."

"He is?"

Blind fool. "The way the Crystals speak has me unsure."

Arc fidgeted. No doubt he wasn't paying attention. It was far too easy, sometimes, to forget to listen in to the Crystals. They were always there, always whispering, and after enough time as their warrior, it became second-nature to tune them out.

"We should arrange a plan of attack. Even now, the Crystals worry."

Arc's face shadowed as he bent down to pick up scattered paper, hair falling to hide his expression. Even with his blind spots regarding Luneth, Arc must have understood the seriousness of this predicament. Even with all four of them gathered together, they barely made it out alive last time. If Luneth found and confronted the monster on his own…

Ingus tried not to think about that. Does Refia know about the Cloud?

The Crystals responded readily. We've informed her, yes. But she said that it makes more sense for her to focus on the moons while you three and others take the Cloud. Luneth… it appears he missed it. It has been… getting more difficult, of late, to reach him.

Others?

We've already sent some help your way. They're taking a route similar to your own.

"How soon can you be ready?" Ingus asked.

Arc pursed his lips, staring forlornly at the maps folded in his arms. "Any time, I guess. Though it would be nice to finish tying things up here."

Ingus nodded. "We leave at dawn."

Finding Ingus' attacker turned out to be harder than Luneth had anticipated. Apparently, people didn't recognize the description that Ingus had given of a man in a dark coat.

Okay, so Luneth had simplified it a little to make it a little more obvious. Ingus could get a little long-winded, and was probably unreliable thanks to the shock, anyway. Luneth was going by the ramblings he'd gotten, which mostly consisted of "that guy" and "the darkness."

This was better.

"... And a super gaunt face," Luneth finished for the hundredth time. He paused for a moment as the girl thought. And then he added, "Looks suspiciously like a jerk."

"Oh!" The girl snapped her fingers. "That makes it obvious, then!"

"Really?!"

"No."

"Ugh, that's what everyone keeps saying! How am I supposed to exact revenge if I don't find one decent lead?"

The girl turned to leave. "Beats me."

"Wait!" Luneth said. "What if you showed me around town, maybe gave me some leads to where I could find some answers?"

"Ew," the girl said, face wrinkling in disgust, "I don't date girls, thanks. See ya."

"That's not what I meant!" Luneth huffed as she disappeared into the crowd. "And I'm not a girl!"

He took a moment to reassess. Fiddled with his pockets, coins clinking inside. He was fresh out of ideas at this point and asking around wasn't getting him anywhere. Perhaps if he were to do something a little more large-scale, attract everyone to him instead of having to go one by one? How could he ask the whole city one question in one minute?

Perhaps he could instead turn his attention to the white-haired man from Arc's journal. The odds of him actually having a connection to Luneth were pretty small, but it couldn't hurt to try, could it?

Luneth sighed, kicking himself for not thinking to bring Arc. Maybe Refia, too – Ingus would have been fine by himself in Norune. The idiot probably wasn't capable of dying.

Okay, that was all well and constructive to think about, but he still needed to find this man with the gun. Luneth stopped by a post, where Ruby's wanted face was still badly drawn on a paper there.

"Hey." A large finger tapped Luneth's shoulder and he spun, reaching for his sword. Guards, each armed with one of those guns at their sides, stood before him. The man who spoke had a rough voice and harsh features half-hidden under a large hat. He also had a big, yellow-ish mustache. "We need you to come with us."

"No way in pandemonium!" Luneth said, hand tensing over his sword. "How stupid do you think I am?!"

"We just want to ask some questions."

"Oh, sure. Is that what you told Ingus before you shot him?"

"There's clearly been a misunderstanding here-"

Luneth yanked his sword from its sheath, the blade hissing as it scraped against leather, and the two guards pulled their guns out. Luneth hesitated, looking down those shafts. "Say it to my face!"

"I did." The man leaned down to his level – he was tall – and Luneth smelled sulfur on him. "And I will. We want to find this guy as much as you do, kid. Why don't we work together?"

Luneth lowered his sword, "Fine."

The sheriff gestured for Max, Monica, and Goro to sit while the guards rushed outside. The office was smaller than Max expected, but the Sheriff had an open ear and listened to Monica's slightly-altered story without any objections. He was a pretty gruff man, with dark features and a strong frame and generally struck Max as a trustworthy person. Seemed a lot like Borneo, actually.

His deputy, Sam, was much smaller and unobtrusive. He currently sat silent at his desk near the entrance, pen scribbling away at some paperwork. Max crinkled his nose at the sight and the memories it brought. Father taught him about keeping up the estate, but Max never had the patience for it. Paperwork had a tendency to crawl into everything, even when taking care of a modest mansion in the county.

"Seems like a fine institution you have here," Monica said.

The sheriff nodded. "Best you'll find in all Blue Terra."

Max almost remarked on the difference between it and Blinkhorn's place, but instead asked, "Do you capture many bad guys?"

The sheriff got a dark look on his face. "As many as we find. How long did you say you've been here, again?"

"Not long," Monica said. "We just arrived in Queens this morning."

"Really? And where did you come from before that? I've never heard your accents before."

Monica forced a smile. "Honestly, this is actually our first time this side of the world as well. We came from the far east."

The sheriff quirked an eyebrow. "Wow. Must be pretty far. I see all sorts in this place, you know. Queens is where everyone comes to eventually, old or young, warrior or farmer, and I've met a fair few easterners, but they're nothing like you."

"My city is kind of isolated," Monica said. "We don't get out much. And Max here is from the south."

"And I'm their guide," Goro grunted. Max found himself glad they brought the hunter along. It was reassuring to know that at least one of the three of them was familiar with the world they were in.

"Matatakin," the Sheriff noted. "You lot are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Goro shrugged.

"And you all came together because… you're looking for someone?"

"... Yes."

Max swallowed and couldn't help glancing at Monica. Her face didn't falter, but she hesitated in responding. The Sheriff narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but before he could say anything, the doors opened, letting in the guards that had left. They held a white-haired boy between them whose face was set in hard lines.

Sam jolted to his feet when the door closed behind them and dropped his pen to the floor.

"One moment," the sheriff said, getting to his feet and stepping away from Max and his friends, "He came quietly?"

"More or less," one of the guards answered.

The boy glared at the sheriff, "Did you shoot him yourself, or did you have one of your mooks do it?"

The sheriff glared right back and forced out, "I did not do that, and I intend to hang whoever did. … Is your friend recovered, at least?"

"No. But he's still alive."

Max stood up, "What's this about?"

The sheriff waved dismissively, "Nothing for you to worry about-"

"I disagree," Monica said, "This sounds right up our alley."

"You've fought a lot of monsters?" The white-haired boy asked, rolling his eyes. Until they caught on Monica's Chronicle Sword and he blinked as if someone showed a flashlight in his face in the dead of night.

Max smiled, "Yep!"

"What kinda monster are we talking about?" Goro said, "I don't know a lot that shoot people."

The sheriff held up his hands, "Hold up. Let's take a step back-"

Monica stepped forward, "I'm Monica. This is Max, and that's Goro. We're hunting something called the Dark Genie."

The boy scratched at the back of his head, "Luneth. I don't know about any Dark Genie…"

"It might call itself the Dark Element," Max said.

"Huh…" Luneth frowned, "What about 'the Cloud of Darkness'?"

Max glanced at Monica, "Never heard that one."

Goro grumbled, "Sounds like this thing goes by a bunch of different names."

"That doesn't make sense, though," Luneth said, "We destroyed that thing."

"I don't know about your Cloud, but the Dark Genie is made of hate, or something like that. When I killed it – with a little help – it said it couldn't be destroyed, not forever."

Monica nodded, "We fought it in a different incarnation. Every time we thought we'd found the source of evil, it turned out there was something else pulling the strings. Now, we think we've finally gotten to the end and it's somewhere in this city-"

Luneth felt the familiar tingle of magic in his veins. Only, he wasn't using any magic. He looked at the guard on his left, the one that went silent upon bringing him in. The guard looked back at him, eyes hard and narrowed. … And red.

Time slowed. The guard's hand moved, gun angling toward Luneth's head.

Luneth ducked, kicked out, and tripped the guard. The guard fell, but easily caught himself before Luneth turned and snapped, "Too slow!"

"Okay," the sheriff said, "At this point, you're definitely mak-"

The gun went off and something cut into Luneth's shoulder. He screamed, rage and adrenaline taking over. Yanked his sword from the other guard and made to cut-

"He's gone mad!"

"You didn't bind his hands?!"

The guard rolled away and large hands grabbed Luneth's arms as the guard backpedaled. Luneth sunk his teeth into the leather gloves that held him and the guy cried out. Luneth scrambled out of the man's grasp and flung himself at the other guard, the one who shot him. "You murderer!" he yelled.

Voices clamored behind him. The the killer ran and Luneth chased with a readied thunder spell.

The world passed him in a blur as Luneth ran after the guard that was way too fast for a human. Luneth pumped his legs as hard as he could but it wasn't enough. The man disappeared into the crowd and Luneth was left chasing after nothing. He slowed, darting his eyes everywhere. Women cried out around him as the other guards caught up.

No. He couldn't let them have him, not yet or ever.

The tall guard swore, grabbing his face. His helmet lay on the floor, knocked right off his head when Luneth dashed away. He righted himself, grabbing his hat. His friend was gone, chasing after Luneth.

"Tch." The guard dusted off his cap. "Kid's fast."

"What?" Monica sputtered, "What just-?"

The sheriff shook his head. "Look, I don't know anything about you, but there's something wrong with that boy's head. He and his friends started up a whole incident in the middle of town yesterday, got a lot of good people hurt. Sorry about that, Flagg. Bit of a mess for you to handle on your first day."

"Flagg?" Goro muttered, "Where have I heard that name…?"

"It's no problem," Flagg said, "In fact, it's nothing less than I expected."

"What?" Monica said.

"That's right!" a high-pitched voice rang.

Max jumped to his feet. He knew that voice.

A large, round figure appeared in the open doorway. "Well, what are we waiting for? Are we gonna catch the brat, or-?"

Flotsam. He locked eyes with Max.

"You!" they both said at the same time, pointing.

"I already told you," the guard called Flagg said. "The two time-travelers would be here. And to whom else could I have been referring? Imbecile."

"You-!" Max grabbed his wrench as Monica unsheathed her sword.

Flotsam yelled incoherently and jumped into the air, thrusters on the bottom of his… person, launching him away as Max and Monica ran after him.

Words that Max's father would not approve of ran through his mind like a broken recording. They'd beaten him in the sewers, they'd beaten him in the forest, they'd beaten him in the mine, and still he wasn't dead! Max was willing to bet that the cockroach was going to find a way out of this one, too!

Max swore as he steadied his aim on the clown cyborg and fired.

Flotsam shrieked with delight at the missed shot and swerved closer to them before firing off a blast from one of those barrels on him and sending up a spray of debris about Max and Monica.

The sheriff jumped forward to follow the children, but Flagg stepped into his path.

"What are you doing?" The sheriff demanded, "Stand aside, newbie!"

"That's 'General' to you," Flagg said coolly, removing his hat as he snapped his fingers. Two soldiers stepped in from outside, placing themselves on either side of the door, and he continued, "I put on this little act to see how you'd handle this situation, sheriff, and to give you a chance to regain control of it. But you've only allowed it to escalate further. The people of Queens are greatly disturbed, and now that you've let those walking catastrophes back onto the streets. The matter is out of your hands – I am taking over."

As Flagg turned on his heel and glanced back over his shoulder, "These two will ensure you remain here, since you are currently under suspicion of attempting to murder a prisoner without due process."

Luneth released the thunder spell and lightning crackled around him. More screams as people ducked away. Even the guards hesitated on the outside of where Luneth had unleashed it. He called down more lightning, still scanning the crowd.

No use. The man was gone. Luneth's one chance at revenge and it was gone. He looked back at the guards with a glare. He wasn't done yet.

The others from the office also showed up. The girl with the ruby hair waved for him to see, and Luneth hesitated. She was kind of far for him to hear what she said.

And he had other things to worry about. With a push, he leapt into the air, flying over a myriad of shocked faces. Something inside of him flared to life, like adrenaline.

Luneth lighted back to the ground and took off. The man couldn't have gotten far. Luneth could still catch him, if only he were faster. He moved his legs and ran harder despite a stitch in his side.

Until he crashed into something and fell to the ground. Pain burst in his head and chest. "What-?!"

Someone moaned. Someone that wasn't him. It wasn't a thing – he'd crashed into a person. "Who?"

The stout guy from before – Goro – struggled to his feet. "Ow – watch where you're going, idiot! The whole city's coming down on us!"

"What?" Luneth asked, also standing. "Who's us?"

"No questions – we gotta move."

The shouting of the guards came closer. Luneth groaned and grabbed his side. It still hurt, but he followed after Goro anyway. He didn't know that he could trust him a hundred percent, but at this point, he was probably better off with him than the city guards.

"Over here!" Goro ducked into an alleyway and Luneth followed. The pain faded as he ran faster. "I told them to meet up at the west gate!"

They passed under some arches and over a canal running through the city before the boy and girl appeared, thudding into the ground feet first. Luneth startled, rounding on them before Goro grabbed him. Luneth paused for a second before he registered their faces.

"Hey!" Monica said shortly, not breaking her stride. Max grabbed Luneth's hand and took off with him in tow.

The streets raged with the soldiers hunting for Monica and Max. Too bad the idiots should have been more focused on the clown and general that were parading about in bright daylight like they owned the place, shouting orders and claiming to be assaulted. Their audacity, thinking they could frame Monica and her friends for their crimes.

She stepped carefully through the alley, the other three right on her heels. It was like the whole world was determined to give Monica the worst year of her life.

But the whole army? Really?

Someone grabbed her by the hair and she cried out in frustration, hitting one policeman in the leg with her sword and cutting her hair out of the other's grasp. It felt lighter all of a sudden. She wasn't sure how much she took off, but she would look later.

She couldn't deal any non-lethal blows, not to pawns being moved about by the Dark Genie. He wanted them to kill a lot of people and do his dirty work for him. As if she'd just let that happen.

She blasted another man in the arm with a fireball. That would cause some scarring, but he would keep his arm. Another man took one of her air blasts. She was forced to stop in the middle of the city as their path was blocked by a wall of police. Goro cursed loudly behind her.

There were too many of them.

Pursing her lips, Monica ducked through some bodies and slipped further into the crowd. Got through with surprising ease and she worried about how the others fared.

Before she bumped into a large, plated someone.

Monica stumbled backward, ready to retaliate if they-

Black armor. Monica looked up to see the knight from the tower, his black cloak fluttering.

"You-" Monica started, reaching toward him. He responded by swatting her to the side with the side of one sword. She flew backward.

Hit stone and rolled through debris before she stopped, arms twitching. Scrambled to get to back to her feet despite the pain in her limbs.

Vision swimming, Monica looked to see the knight. He didn't move.

"Give up!" a woman shouted nearby, clothed in a feminine version of the police uniform. She stepped toward Max and the others, revolver held steady. They froze. "We don't want to harm you!"

"Nor we you!" Luneth called back. "Honestly, if we need to, we could light up this whole city!"

"Like that would help," Monica sighed in disgust, though no one heard.

"He's right, you know," a new voice said. Monica snapped her head around, looking for the source. The knight? He looked at her, face hidden in shadow and metal.

"We've dealt with people like you before!" the woman called back to Luneth. "And we'd rather not resort to the same measures we used on the others!"

"Risky," the voice said. It sounded deep, like a man's voice, but too close to be any of those around her. She could swear whoever it was whispered directly in her ear. "This is pointless. Your target stands before you and by removing him, you can save thousands if not millions of lives."

"I can't take him," Monica said quietly. "Not without killing at least a dozen men."

"Hence why the the brat is correct."

"This is a trick," Monica snapped, "You want me to attack innocent people and that's not going to happen!"

"Heh. I am telling you this for one reason, little girl – I don't think you can beat the swordsman. But if you choose not to go after him at all, then that is perfectly fine. You'll hear of his murders soon enough, and you'll remember that you could have prevented them. But you didn't even try."

Monica hesitated, shifting the grip on her sword. The black knight was right there, his mask hiding any kind of emotion or reaction he may have had at seeing her again. What was he doing, just standing there? Taunting them? Waiting for the chance to kill them himself?

But she also had to get Flagg and Flotsam out of the way.

Someone–something–laughed quietly. "Heh. Just say the words and leave it to me, girl."

Monica chewed on her lip. She couldn't. It wasn't worth it. The power of the Genie, of that darkness, it destroyed. It didn't save. But they were running out of options.

"I've got it!" Luneth shouted.

Monica snapped her eyes on him from her position so far away and Luneth grinned as mana surged again in his veins. The best thing about this city was how close it was to the ocean, which was just a whole lot of water.

The army waited long enough for Luneth to start a mist rolling in from the bay. Surprise quieted the gathered crowd as the air around them chilled and the air faded with a white fog.

"Cease fire! We don't want to shoot our own men! Lower your weapons!"

He couldn't hold the cover forever. Sharing a look with Goro and signaling the time to move, Luneth ran as fast as he could. Metal sang and shots fired, but Luneth just kept running in the direction that Goro pointed out.

One guard got close and Luneth lashed out by instinct, veins pulsing with something that wasn't mana. The air flashed with a shimmering, lavender tint and a bolt of dark-colored lighting burned into the guard's chest.

Luneth paused, stumbling, as the body of a soldier fell. How did he manage that surge of magic? Wherever it came from, it wasn't the Crystals. He looked down at his hand, where purple still sparked, fresh and foreign. Or maybe not so foreign. It actually felt a little… nice. Strange, but not unwelcome.

"This way!" Goro cried, appearing at Luneth's side with the others. "The gate's just over here!"

"Wait!" Luneth said, stopping. "I have a ship! It'll be better than going back there!"

"A ship?" Goro repeated. "Where'd you suddenly get a ship from?!"

"Are you going to question it?" Max asked. "They're closing in!"

"I need to go," Monica said, turning toward Max. They spoke for a moment, but Luneth couldn't make out the words.

"Come on!" Goro grabbed Luneth. "We need to get out of here before this army fries our hides!"

They were outnumbered at least thirty-five to one. Luneth bit back a retort, frustrated that he couldn't get to the general first.

Max looked confused. "Sir Knight is here?"

Monica nodded. "And I have a little something I owe him. You stop them, Max. If we don't do this, then the world is good as gone."

"We've made it through how much together, now?" he reminded her. "And you still don't trust me?"

The rage of the riots around them quieted. Monica hesitated. Then gave him a quick hug. "Just stay alive, okay?"

"Of course!" Monica pulled away and Max touched his cap. "See you!"

And he disappeared into the crowd, following the smoke left in Flotsam's wake. Monica swallowed. She had to trust in him, because if there was one person who could do it, it was Max.

Monica shook her head and turned after the knight.

Max hesitated, wrench tensed in his hands. The ship behind him whirred to life, the hum of its engine drowning out the shouts of the soldiers. The soldiers that belonged to this city, that attacked only out of a need to protect it. He hated the thought of hurting them, even in self-defense.

"Get in!" Luneth shouted, head appearing in the glass of the cockpit.

Max shoved his wrench into its latch on the side of his belt before following close behind Goro. People shouted and shots fired. Something grazed Max's leg, ripping a hole in his jeans. Goro yelped above him.

"Can you take us to the air?" Max yelled back to Luneth.

In response, the ship lifted and the ladder swung dangerously. Goro cried out in alarm but held steady. He glanced down toward Max, and moved his mouth, but Max couldn't hear what he said. The ship's engines were surprisingly loud for its size.

Another bullet narrowly missed them and Goro hastened his ascent. He was surprisingly agile despite his stocky frame. Max came after, hands gripping each wooden bar like it was his life. Which, considering the increasingly faraway landscape, he supposed it kind of was.

Max slowly climbed the rest of the way in until his hands gripped the blessedly solid surface at the top and he lifted himself back to safety. It was a rather fascinating sight on the inside–windows surrounded almost the entirety of the first floor, stopping just toward the back, where a wall holding a singular door blocked his view of the rest of the ship. Some couches and tables furnished the main body, with supplies lining the wall that included books, rations, clothing… anything they could ever want.

"Where did you get this?" Max asked as he pulled the ladder in. "It must have cost thousands–no, millions!"

Luneth shifted his grip of the wheel to one hand and turned to face him. "Isn't it awesome?"

Max pulled the door closed and the raging wind outside quited. Then took a seat on one of the couches while Goro remained standing. "I like it."

"Glad to know your place is so accommodating," Goro said, folding his arms with a huff. "We just got captured and interrogated and then sent on wild goose chases for our trouble."

"For what it's worth," Max said. "We just got food, for the most part."

"I would have killed for some food."

The ship swerved and Max was thrown off the back of the sofa. "What?!"

"Crystals!" Luneth grabbed the steering wheel. "That guy from before, he followed us!"

Flotsam's painted face showed up on Max's side of the ship and he said something Max couldn't hear. How could he able fly so high?

Flotsam readied a cannon.

"Luneth!" Max shouted. "Move the ship!"

The ground tilted again as Luneth spun them away. This thing was fast, almost able to keep up with Flotsam despite his comparatively diminutive size.

Max yelled for Luneth to slow down before making his way to the roof of the ship. It wasn't like this was the first time he fought Flotsam like this, but he certainly hoped the clown would quit making a habit of it because facing down flying robots on top of airships wasn't exactly his idea of-

A missile slammed the side of the ship and sent it reeling the opposite way. Max barely kept his footing and took aim at the offending sight.

Flotsam cackled and prepared another blast, but Max fired and hammered the guy's shoulder with a good barrage of laser bullets that blew off his arm.

Flotsam shouted profanity and righted himself.

Max didn't have any cover up here, so when Flotsam made to shoot again, Max just threw himself to the ground and felt his stomach churn as the ship careened the other way.

"Come on," he muttered to himself. No matter how hard the guy, Flotsam was a robot now and Max couldn't exactly hit vital organs expect him to drop out of the sky. He'd just have to blast every piece from the guy's body until there was nothing left!

Something bit his leg and Max rolled over. Couldn't afford to stay down.

Flotsam laughed again, loud and mad and long, before Max shot him in the other shoulder and destroyed that arm, too.

Flotsam didn't react as badly as he expected, though, and Max wondered how he would keep fighting without them. Dang, he should have taken the feet out first and saved the arms for last. No, he should have ruined the face and then the rest-

There was a brief pause, in which that stupid clown seemed to have disappeared in the clouds.

But then he appeared again and waved his hands. His mouth moved frantically, probably spewing insults and death threats. Max scowled, gripping his wrench.

The ship twisted and turned, but Flotsam kept right on their tail, like a gnat on a summer day. An armored, cyborg, flying, clown cockroach, gnat. It was impossible, simply impossible to get rid of him!

One last, short laugh and Flotsam kicked out.

And exploded.