The trip through the tunnels was mostly in silence. Little by little, the rest of the company woke up from their close encounter with the explosive rockslide, their eyes lighting up in shock upon seeing their rescuer in the flesh…and metal.

When they realized they were in a wagon with no steed, they turned their attention to the outside and saw that the wagon was indeed moving on its own, though they saw no visible indication as to how. All they gathered was it had something to do with the Boltund, who was continuously sparking with electricity.

"How serendipitous for us to meet like this," Caractacus stated. "Consider yourselves lucky I was checking my traps when I did. By the time I figured out which one you set off, your heads would've been crushed under all that rock."

Amos glared. "So, this entire gorge is littered with traps?"

"Quite effective for keeping out unwanted pests." He glanced over his shoulder. "Though, I suppose some of you are old faces. Salutations, Evelot."

She waved nervously. "Uh, hi…Caractacus. Um, haven't seen you in some time."

"Indeed. How long has it been? Six years, at least? I'll be honest, when I heard what happened to the Fauchers, I assumed you went up in smoke like the rest of them. Surprised you survived."

Evelot looked away. "W-Well…yeah."

"Ah, and Phoebe, was it? How have you been? Still as bloodthirsty as ever?"

She scoffed. "Nice to see you, too, jackass."

"Super! Still in high spirits, I see." He glanced between Amos and Magni. "Those two, I don't recognize. Friends of yours?"

"Yep!" Evelot exclaimed.

"If that's the word you want to use," Phoebe grumbled.

Amos groaned. "They're helping me with something. We're merely acquaintances."

Caractacus waved his metal paw around. "If you say so. Well then, what's a group of acquaintances such as yourselves doing all the way out here? No wait, let me guess—" He took a look at Amos. "Something tells me you're looking for a new set of parts."

"…Good guess."

Caractacus groaned. "Of course. That's how it always is. You made it this far without getting yourselves killed, so I might as well do my thing and help you. Everyone needs a superior genius like me, it's only natural."

Phoebe snorted. "Don't act too humble." She glared. "So, you mind explaining why you…look like that?"

Amos glared. "You mean that's not what he used to look like?"

"What? You think he was born looking like a pile of trash?"

Caractacus glared at her. "Oi! These are some of the finest metals I stole, I'll have you know. Don't go mocking my craftsmanship!" He sighed and kept his eyes ahead. "As for why I look like this, I…ran into a bit of a danger sometime ago. Roughly five years ago. Actually, that's the reason I'm hiding out in Copper Gorge these days. I built myself a little space deep in the canyon that keeps me from being detected."

Evelot raised her brow. "Detected? By who?"

"Some crazy Lucario who said he was looking for MacGyver. He found me while I was doing work for another gang. The bastard just came up to me and demanded I go with him. I didn't exactly refuse, but a small gang war kind of started over my possession. I realized the tension was escalating, so I fled. Pretty sure that guy murdered everyone. I thought that was the end of it, but he kept hunting me down for weeks no matter how many times I tried to shake him off. He was impossible to get away from."

"So, how did you get away?" Amos asked.

"…" After hovering over the question in silence, the hound waved it off. "Eh, the details aren't important. Point is, all of this came with the escape," he said, tracing along his prosthetics. "You would not believe how long it took me to get fixed up. I had to cobble together improvised prosthetics just to walk and…good grief, I don't even want to remember what happened to my jaw. I had tie it down for months before I could make a new jaw for myself. I had to drink all my food. Let me tell you: not pleasant!"

Amos leaned against the walls of the wagon and huffed. "So, you've been hiding out here ever since doing…what?"

He shrugged. "What all great scientists do: try and crack the secrets of everything. Helps pass the time."

Phoebe glared. "Yeah, like stealing our treasure right from under our noses."

The Boltund threw his head back and laughed. "No way! You idiots found my note first! Ha, priceless!" He wiped a tear from his eye and shook his head. "Yeah, I've been digging around in those old ruins. I fancy a bit of history myself. Part of science is to undercover the secrets of the old world and learn how to harness it. I've had a keen interest in Virdis' history. Not much else to do when you're dumped into the Outlands."

Magni raised his head. "Dumped?"

"Eh, story for another time. We're not that close yet." Caractacus flicked at his ear before asking, "Anyway, mind explaining what caused you lot to set off my trap? You must've been running pretty fast not to see the tripwire."

Amos grunted. "We were being chased by a couple of mercenaries. Call themselves the Deadly Seven."

"Ah, those fellas. I've heard of them. Never bothered to do business with them. Better to stay out of their way."

"We killed one of them recently," Phoebe said.

"No kidding? And you brought them all the way out here?"

"We weren't given much choice. We didn't know we were being followed by two more."

Caractacus waved it off. "Alright, I'll forgive you for now. I was hoping to get a few more years out of this place, but looks like moving day is upon me."

Evelot raised her hand. "Actually, one of them claims to know you. He said something about…wanting revenge against you or something?"

He raised his brow at her. "Do you have slightest idea how little that narrows it down? I've been contracted by gangs all across the Outlands for over two decades. I'm bound to make some enemies. Though, I'd certainly remember pissing off someone from the Deadly Seven…unless this asshole killed the last one."

"Alolan Raichu?" Evelot asked.

"Hmmmmmm…nope! Still not ringing any bells." He shrugged. "Oh, who cares? If he was anyone important, I'd remember."

Phoebe crossed her arms. "Well, he's going to make himself loud and clear eventually. We can't hide in this gorge forever."

Caractacus laughed. "You kidding? Whoever these idiots are, they'll get themselves killed before they find me. Do you have any idea how long I've been boobytrapping this area? At the very least, it'll buy me some time to get your angry acquaintance patched up and for me to hightail it to a new shelter." He shuddered. "Last thing I need is that crazy Lucario figuring out where I am. Good grief, he would not stop talking about himself. I wasn't even sure what he was talking about. He just kept rambling on and on in bad poetry or some shit…"

Amos' eyes widened, feeling a cold shiver run up his spine. Wait, is he talking about…? He shook his head and covered his face. Shit, what are the chances Cain sent that maniac to hunt me down, too? Or worse, what if he's hunting Althalos and the others? For my sanity, I hope everyone assumes I'm dead for now.

"Woooow, look at that. Yep, real dead, Ulrich. Excellent work."

"Oh shut up."

After the dust finally settled, Ulrich and Vilgot descended back into the gorge to inspect the rockslide. Ulrich lifted the massive pile of boulders with his Psychic so Vilgot could search out the presumably dead group and a hopefully breathing Mimikyu. Instead, all they found were a few splatters of blood and the remains of Magni's harness.

Vilgot flew back up to the Alolan Raichu and yelled, "I told you not to get cocky! If you had just killed them like you were supposed to earlier—"

Ulrich lazily tossed the floating boulders away and turned his back to the irate Flapple. "Oh, lay off. They couldn't have gotten that far."

"They were crushed by hundreds of tons of rock! They shouldn't have gotten far in the first place! Face it, they escaped!"

"But they're still in Copper Gorge somewhere." He pointed along the canyon walls and explained, "All we have to do is search the tunnels and figure out which one they went through. Simple as that."

Vilgot gnashed his teeth together. "This entire gorge is half a dozen miles wide! Plus, we just saw that this place was boobytrapped! Who knows what else that mad hound set up down here?!"

Ulrich patted the Flapple's head. "Oh sweet, naïve Vilgot. It's quitter talk like that that'll keep you from getting stronger. You are the weakest, after all."

Vilgot's eye twitched. "First of all, I am way stronger than Helmut! Second of all, I could've killed those jerks faster if I didn't have to worry about you hitting me as well!"

Ulrich shrugged. "Well, if you're so strong, then what's a few supposed traps going to accomplish?" He floated along, hands tucked behind his back. "Anyway, quit slowing me down and hurry up. We've got some corpses to find."

Vilgot hovered for a moment, glowering at the psychic mouse, before sighing in defeat and flying after him. "Aye…"

The slow, crackling ride through the tunnels soon led the group to a gated off entrance sealed off by a metal barricade. Caractacus hopped off his self-moving wagon, causing the crackling noise emanating off it to quiet down. He opened a fake wall in the rocks and pressed his paw inside.

Crackling noises sounded from the other side of the barricade, and it slowly retracted into the ceiling.

"Whooooaaaaaa," Evelot awed.

Amos glared. "What kind of wizardry is this?"

Caractacus laughed. "This wizardry you speak of is no such magics! This…is science!"

Once the barricade was fully raised, Caractacus hopped back onto the wagon and compelled it to move inside. After parking it, he went up to another panel and motioned for the barricade to lower back down.

"Anyway, welcome to my little home. Make sure to wipe your feet. I don't want you tracking mud," he joked.

The company pulled themselves out from the wagon. Magni accidentally stood up too fast and tore open the wagon's cover, causing him to stumble out. He blushed meekly. "Sorry."

Caractacus waved it off. "Bah! I can make a new one. Anyway, follow, follow!"

He led them through the cave, where they found it had been renovated into a sort of laboratory for the mad scientist. Chains hung from the walls, various boxes filled with scrap metal were stacked off to the side, rocks were carved into lab tables, and more. A furnace sat against the back wall, casting a warmth over the cave compared to the frigid cold outside.

Phoebe shrugged off her jacket and hung it over her shoulder. "Well, as far as first impressions go, not a bad set up, Tac."

"Hehehe, you still remember that nickname you gave me," he muttered bitterly.

She smirked. "Aww, you still love it? I'll keep using it, then."

"Riveting…" He shook his head. "Anyway, yes, this is where I've been living the past few years. Took a lot of work, so I'm quite annoyed I'll have to move now."

"Don't the Dead Men Soldiers operate near this area?" Evelot asked worriedly. "We're not going to run into them, right?"

Caractacus waved her off. "They stick closer to Copper Bluff than they do here. Besides, we're far enough away where they wouldn't bother traveling this far out. That's at least my working theory as to why I haven't been hogtied into being their willing assistant yet."

"I'm sensing a pattern," Amos muttered.

Caractacus smirked. "What can I say? I'm a popular guy. Everyone wants a little bit of my brilliance. Speaking of—" His mechanical arm extended out from his back and grabbed Amos by the wing, pulling him along. "Come, come! I need to take some measurements!"

"Agh! I'm still sore from earlier!"

Phoebe's eyes widened. "A-Actually, Tac? Can I have a moment to talk to…?" She pouted as the Boltund already dragged Amos into a different section of the cave. "Ugh…" She facepalmed.

Magni glanced down at her. "Apologize?"

"I'm working on it," she growled.

Evelot narrowed her eyes. "It really isn't that hard."

"It is for me! I've…never seen the point in apologizing for anything, especially when it's not that big a deal. I never really mean half the shit I say. They're just words! Who cares? Who cares about anything really?!"

"…" Evelot patted her back. "Phoebe—"

She pulled from the Mimikyu and pinched between her eyes. "This is so stupid. After everything that happened, he probably forgot about that stupid conversation."

"Then why is it bothering you so much?"

"Because you keep pestering me over it!"

"…"

"…" Phoebe slapped herself and growled. "It's just so pointless. Everything's pointless! Nothing…matters." She groaned softly and massaged her face. "I'm not used to being…compassionate."

"You don't seem to have issues with me."

"Because you're you. You're…impossible to hate. I don't know! I just never saw the point in caring about anything. I barely cared about myself, and now I'm getting frustrated just trying to figure out how to apologize to some asshole scorpion over something she should've got over years ago!"

"…" Evelot narrowed her eyes sadly. "She?"

"He! He, that's what I said, not…" She groaned and stormed off. "I need to cool off." She slipped into another passage in the cave, her footsteps growing softer.

Evelot sighed. "Phoebe…"

"Problem?" Magni asked, lowering down to her level.

"It's…not my place to explain. Trust me."

"Arceus fucking dammit. Stupid fucking…ugh!"

To Phoebe's relief, she found something akin to a bathroom in the cave, though it wasn't anything pretty. A sectioned-off hole in the ground, a water basin with a pump and a broken pane of mirror hanging over it, and an isolated pond of flowing water.

Phoebe pulled on the water pump a couple times until water started flowing. She scooped some water in their hands and splashed it across her face.

"Apologize for what?" she grumbled, letting the water drip off her face. "I didn't say anything wrong. It's his fault for being so sensitive over nothing." She clenched her eyes shut. "So why is this bothering me so much?"

She scooped up more water and splashed herself, shuddering as the chilling liquid dripped down to her neck and shoulders. She panted softly, still feeling her blood warming her body.

"Amos is just a jerk. I don't care about his supposed feelings. The only thing that matters is survival. I just need to survive."

"Survival is pointless. Nothing else matters." Phoebe's eyes widened. Slowly lifted her gaze, she looked into the crack mirror in front of her. Before her was her own reflection, but not quite.

An Aipom with disheveled, bloodstained fur and bloodshot eyes stared back at her with a wicked grin.

"…" Phoebe groaned and covered her face. "Nope, nope! I'm too angry to be dealing with this shit again."

"We both know you didn't live to survive," the cracked reflection said. "There was nothing worth living for in the Outlands. You were too far gone to start anew in proper society. No one wanted to be around a Freak. The only thing for certain in the Outlands is death. That's life's only purpose: to remind us of our own fleeting mortality."

"Will you fuck off already?" Phoebe growled. "I'm not having a deluded argument with myself."

Cracked Phoebe smirked. "You know why you're so stressed out. If Amos is bothering you so much, just kill him. Kill him like everyone else who pissed you off. Why wait? His life doesn't hold any meaning. No one's does. He wouldn't be any different to everyone else you've slaughtered."

"I'm not hearing this," Phoebe grumbled.

"You're too late to start growing a conscience. After what you did to Thatcher and his goons or back in Crimehallow, you can't say you've gone soft. You're just antsy because you haven't killed anyone in a while. You're the predator. They're the prey. It's the natural cycle. Just kill Amos."

"Fuck off," Phoebe growled.

"Why are you so resistant? Stop denying your soul's purpose. You can deny it all you want, but you know deep down that nothing in this world matters. The only thrill you've ever gotten was spraying yourself in other's blood. What place would someone like you have? Someone born of wild instinct and a lust for death? Such lovely traits you inherited from them—"

SMASH!

Phoebe trembled for a second before catching her breath. She shook the glass shards out of her tail hand, blood dripping from the small cuts, and watched half the mirror crumble onto the floor. Looking back at her reflection, she saw her soaked face instead.

"…It was a shitty mirror, anyway."

A tense silence hung between the duo of Ulrich and Vilgot, though the tension mainly came from Vilgot as he silently seethed at the smug Raichu. A voice roared deep within his chest, wanting to say something in regards to his partner's haphazard methodology of professionalism, but all he could do was sigh in frustration and go forth with his decision.

He's your friend, Vilgot, he thought to himself. Ulrich may seem inept, but he's gotten you out of plenty of jams. He's the guy that got you out from the gutter in the first place. He knows what he's doing.

"Aha! That looks like a good place to start."

Vilgot looked up and saw the Raichu floating down to an odd patch of wall. He couldn't tell why, but the sight of it looked uncanny compared to the rest of the rock. He floated after his partner to get a better look of the wall, soon understanding why it looked so strange.

It was hard to notice under the low light, but the right angle revealed a section of the rock wall looked slightly discolored compared to the naturally amber color of the gorge. Furthermore, a swift knock from Ulrich revealed the surface was distinctly hollow.

Ulrich laughed. "Oh, my unworthy rival, you think this cheap imitation will keep me from hunting you down? I expected better from you."

Vilgot tilted his head. "It is definitely hard to miss, but are you sure this is the entrance into the caves? This is pretty far away from where the others disappeared from, and if we're assuming Caractacus rescued them—"

"He has to have multiple entrances littered across this place. This is clearly one of them." Ulrich clenched his fist and enveloped his Psychic over the fake wall. "Time to bust our way in."

Vilgot winced. "You sure you want to rip that off? We still don't know what's behind—"

"You worry too much, Vil." Ulrich swung his fist back, causing the fake wall to fly off into pieces.

Vilgot flinched, half-expecting something to violently explode in his face. Instead, after a moment of prolonged silence, he cracked one eye open and cautiously scanned his environment. "Are we dead yet?"

"Whoa! Vil, check this out!"

Vilgot finally opened his eyes and gasped as Ulrich landed inside the wall's cavity. Sitting inside was a treasure chest surrounded in gold coins, the sight of which made the Flapple's eyes light up with joy.

"No way! Is this real?!" Vilgot exclaimed, landing beside his partner.

Ulrich laughed. "That idiot! He left a priceless chest of treasure sitting out by its lonesome? What kind of moron leaves something like this in such an obvious location?"

Vilgot excitedly rubbed his hands together. "I take back my doubts, Ulrich! This is amazing!"

"You know it! Now, let's see the goods!" Together, they grabbed the lid and slowly lifted it, grinning ear-to-ear to see their long-awaited riches—

BOOM!

As soon as the lid was fully opened, a blast of gold filled their vision. Blinking their eyes opened, they looked at each other and saw that the other's front was completely covered in gold-colored paint. Looking back inside the chest, they found a smoking mechanism resembling a cannon resting inside, also splattered with paint.

"…"

"…"

"…" Vilgot picked up one of the coins, inspected it, then shot Ulrich a deadpan glare. "Ulrich."

"Yeah?"

"This isn't money. These are just bottlecaps colored gold."

"…Well, that's what I get for trusting your lead."

"…" Vilgot sucked in a deep breath, crushing the caps inside his grip.

Amos grumbled under his breath as he sat on an old crate with his pincer outstretched. Caractacus wrapped a marked string around the pincer, pulling it taut to get an exact measurement. Afterwards, he forced the pincer open and started measuring the inside.

"How long is this going to take?" Amos asked.

"Whining and complaining won't speed my brilliance along," Caractacus said.

"This is so fucking stupid."

"You came to me for a new pincer and stinger, and that's exactly what you're getting, so pipe down and let me concentrate." He finished his measurements on the pincer before moving on to Amos' tail. He wrapped the string around where the stinger was originally severed. "We'll have to perform some weighted tests to get you properly accustomed to your prosthetics. You should be honored, actually. With the elementium I harvested from those ruins, you'll be the first to get custom-made elementium gear. I even have a few ideas for that stinger of yours."

Amos rolled his eyes. "Lovely."

Caractacus finished the measurements and walked over to a stone table. He pulled out a sheet of blueprint paper, picked up a quill with his mechanical arm and started sketching out a design. "Any preferences for the pincer?"

"Just as long as I can fire a gun, I don't care."

The hound smirked. "Oooh, that gives me ideas. You may not have to worry about firing a gun ever again."

"Hmm?"

"Oh, you'll see~. Just give me a moment."

The Gligar huffed and leaned back against the wall, mindlessly bouncing his leg. He let his attention wander around the separate cave space, though it wasn't as visually appealing as the main room they entered. Nothing to distract him from the debilitating boredom sweeping his mind.

"…So, how detached are you from the rest of the Outlands?" he finally asked.

Caractacus shrugged. "Eh, you hear stuff here and there. Best to keep track of the affairs of gangs so that it doesn't trace back to me."

"So, if there happened to be a stir over something, you'd eventually hear back about it?"

"Eventually, I suppose."

"Have you…heard anything about the Dukes of Buzzard in the last couple of months?"

Caractacus glared. "I'm assuming that's your old gang?"

"…It is."

He shrugged. "Well, I haven't heard anything. Why do you ask?"

"We escaped an Outlands prison during the Hollow Moon. We…got separated. That's now I ended up losing my pincer and stinger."

Caractacus nodded. "I figured you got into some sort of fight based off the damage."

"I'm only traveling with the girls to either find my old gang or get revenge on the bastard who attacked us."

"Heh. Well, I hate to break it to you, but your gang is probably long dead by now."

Amos glared. "They're not dead."

Caractacus shot him a look. "Really?"

"…" He grimaced. "We lost someone. Maybe two depending on what that bastard did to Terrick." He shook his head. "But I know the rest of them are still alive out there. I just need to find them."

Caractacus sighed. "Look, I hate to be the buzzkill here, but no one goes into the Outlands and lives. It's only survival out here. It's a nonstop war just to get a decent meal and sleep, and even those luxuries come with a price."

"Don't remind me," the scorpion grumbled, recalling his hospitable hosts back in Crimehallow.

"Depending on where your gang ended up, chances are they're either starving to death or ran into the wrong fellow at the wrong time. Whichever way you look at it, they probably bit the dust already."

"I refuse to believe that. They're alive. I know they are."

Caractacus shrugged. "Suit yourself. Don't come crying to me when you find their corpses."

Amos glared. "Well, I didn't pin you as a cynic."

"It's not cynicism. It's experience. I was born in the Outlands and lived here for the last twenty-two years. This is literally everything I know. I've seen it before, I'll see it again, and you'll see it once you stop acting blind."

"…" Amos groaned. "I'm not playing the idealist to your realism. I just know how tough my leader is. He won't die easily."

"Well, I suppose you should've died already, so maybe there's some hope." Caractacus smiled bitterly. "But really, why waste your time?"

"They're the closest thing to family I have left, as much as I hate them."

"Tch. Family? That's a pretty lame excuse."

"Got a problem with that?"

"Like I said, I was born in the Outlands. I was raised by the generous kindness of a gang." Caractacus glared. "Want to take a wild guess how I ended up here?"

"…"

"I don't know the details, but I pieced it together myself. My mother was apparently some cheating bitch that had a one-night stand with someone, and she had to hide the evidence of that night before she got hitched to the guy she was supposed to be engaged to. Frankly, I should consider myself lucky she didn't go with throwing my egg out in the trash and letting me die of disease, but I wouldn't call ending up in the Outlands a slice of heaven."

"…" Amos glared. "What happened to we're not that close for life stories stuff?"

He sighed and gently massaged his temples. "It's…been a rough couple of decades. It still pisses me off. And between how I spent most of my childhood, I never saw the point in familial connections. There's nothing inherently special about family. It's nothing more than a contract by blood, just like all my other relationships. It's just another contract, and contracts can either be upheld or broken. Mostly broken."

"…" Amos glared at the floor. "Well, I can't argue with that. I don't have the best track record with family."

"So, why bother looking for your old gang if they don't matter to you?"

"…Maybe it's because I'm trying to hold onto the thin strand of decency I have left."

Caractacus smirked. "Decency? In this day and age? You won't catch me getting sentimental over a broken world."

"Then why pursue science? It benefits no one but yourself if you keep it as such."

"Well, that's your answer there. I'm just selfish. Anyone else is undeserving of my brilliance. That's the beauty of science: we must explore every possibility of our universe through sheer, unhinged curiosity. I want to see how far I can go before I bite the dust."

"…" Amos leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Then I guess I'll die after I've satiated my curiosity. Confirming that my gang is still out there and fighting."

"Heh. You do that."

Ulrich and Vilgot flew through the gorge in silence, having gotten half the gold paint off their bodies, leaving their clothes, fur, and skin smeared in the residue. Ulrich hovered along, whistling an innocent tune, while Vilgot kept an even glare ahead.

Sensing the awkward tension, Ulrich said, "Look, we all make mistakes from time to time, so let's not let that little mistake weigh you down, buddy. We've got plenty more gorge to explore, and two lucky bounties to collect!"

Ignoring the Raichu's deluded insistence to shift the blame, Vilgot finally released the breath he was holding and nodded. "Right, right. Focus on finding Evelot and Caractacus. That's the plan. So, where should we look next?"

Ulrich scanned the walls ahead before pointing out a large entrance nearing the top. "That looks like a good place to start next."

They flew into the entrance and landed. It was quite spacious, and the path ahead was dark, giving no indication to how far it extended in. Curious, Ulrich levitated a rock off the ground and fired it into the darkness. The duo waited a few seconds until they heard the rock plink and echo back to them.

"Seems safe enough," Ulrich commented. He motioned to go through, but Vilgot stopped himself.

"Hold on, last time we blindly went in, we got splashed with paint."

"Dude, that was from a treasure chest you foolishly convinced me to open."

Sucking in an agitated breath, Vilgot continued, "Just let me get some light in here first before we accidentally start a cave in." He fluttered out of the entrance for a moment.

Ulrich rolled his eyes. "Just let me get some light first. Don't want to blindly set off a trap. We're wasting enough time being cautious. Those chumps are probably planning an escape by now." As he ranted to himself, he unconsciously hovered backwards. "It's a massive, fucking entrance. What's the worst he could do? Set up a few more bombs? Spray us with more paint? Some secret pitfall to drop us—"

CLICK!

His eyes widened as he ran into a concealed wire, which detached from the wall. He picked it up and pulled it until he found the release pin on the other end.

"Huh. Okay, nothing exploded yet." He laughed to himself. "Dumbass hound! It's just a dud! What a loser—" He froze as something dripped onto his head. Looking up, water started dripping down from the entrance ceiling, and the droplets were picking up speed. His ears twitched, hearing the sound of something rumbling nearby.

Vilgot flew back into the cave entrance, holding a lit torch in his teeth. "Okay, I got some light. Now we can—why is it rumbling in here?"

"…" Ulrich tossed the tripwire away. "No reason."

"Did you just fucking—"

BOOM!

The duo screamed as a rush of water broke through the ceiling and crashed into them, sending them flying out back into the gorge. They flailed and panicked as the water crashed down into the bottom of the gorge and swept them away, their screams echoing across the walls.

After an hour of measurements and sketches, Caractacus and Amos reentered the main cave where Evelot, Magni, and Phoebe were waiting. Amos noticed the Aipom sitting on Magni's back with an irritated expression. Her tail hand seemed to be wrapped in bandages, though he didn't remember her having any.

Evelot hopped down from Magni's head and scuttled over. "So? How did it go?"

Caractacus grinned. "You're all in luck! I should be able to craft Amos a new set of gear that'll make him ten times the man he used to be."

Evelot lit up. "That's wonderful! Oh, thank you so much, Caractacus! You're a lifesaver!"

Phoebe groaned. "Yeah, real great."

Magni tilted his head. "How long…build gear?"

Caractacus clicked his tongue before saying, "By my estimate, it could take me a few days to cut out, shape, and construct the mechanisms. Ssssoooo, until then, guess you lot will be staying here until I get them up and running." He nudged Amos. "After that, we'll have to prep you for surgery."

The Gligar winced. "S-Surgery?"

"What? I can't just slap them on you and call it a day." He looked at Evelot. "I may need your help, though. I speak from experience, the process is…incredibly painful without some sort of anesthetic."

She winced. "Yeesh. Yeah, I'll see what I can whip up."

Amos nervously cradled his arm. "I'm having second thoughts all of a sudden."

Caractacus laughed. "Oh, you'll be fine! I rebuilt my body with just one paw, and I turned out great!"

"We have very different definitions of the word great."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Relax, Lamecaster. I'll make sure he doesn't attach anything weird to you—" Her eye twitched as soon as Amos looked away from her. "Are you still mad at me?! Seriously?!"

Caractacus raised his brow. "What?"

Evelot slapped a hand over Phoebe's mouth. "Uh, long story. Th-Thank you for accepting us into your…lovely home."

He laughed. "Lovely? This place is a dump! But I suppose the company is acceptable." He stepped away to another tunnel. "I'll find some old mats for you guys to sleep on. Dinner's on me, too. Hope you like scavenged resources and homegrown vegetables!"

As soon as the Boltund was out of earshot, Amos glared at the girls and Magni. "Now, do we have a plan for our other predicament?"

Phoebe scoffed. "Oh, so you'll talk to me when it's about business, but when I dare to speak casually—" Noticing the deadpan glares Evelot and Magni were giving her, she groaned and pinched between her eyes. "In…regards to the Dimwit Duo outside, I don't know. The Flapple is too tricky to deal with."

"And the Raichu is too fast and powerful," Amos concluded. "I suppose our best bet is to split them up."

Evelot raised her hand. "Perhaps using the terrain to our advantage will help. After all, the narrow space and turns would limit some of their movement unlike open land."

Amos nodded. "It's worth considering, though I have no idea how long I'll be out of commission before and after surgery. I can't do anything right now."

"Leaving pretty much Magni and me as our only line of defense," Phoebe grunted.

"It's the best we got, so we're counting on you two to keep us safe should we be discovered early."

Phoebe smirked uneasily. "That's a lot of pressure."

Amos sighed. "For now, we'll just rest up for the day and hope nothing happens until I'm fixed up." He grimaced. "Still…"

"You're thinking about the Deadly Seven, aren't you?" Evelot asked.

"…" He nodded softly. "We still don't know who were dealing with. Too many unknowns at play. We're lucky to be alive after what happened with Alibrand and Wigbrand. These guys are a step up, and we still don't know where the rest of their team is or what they're capable of. We got a taste of it in Crimehallow, and we were nearly killed hours ago."

Magni glared. "No escape."

"Yeah. And if they're as strong as we believe, then…how do we continue on? How are we going to face Last Autumn if their underlings are giving us this much trouble?"

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but the truth had to be said eventually. A crusade launched by revenge and hatred against the group that tried to screw them over was suddenly rearing its ugly head back at them, reminding them what they were risking over essentially nothing. What was to gain going after Last Autumn?

And more importantly, would they even see the light of success when their journey ended?

Midnight

"…"

"…"

"…You know, I would just like to say—"

"Ulrich."

"Yeah?"

Smeared yellow and completely drenched, the duo stared out from the confines of their metallic net which they happened to trip after escaping the torrential flood, the hours of silence wearing on their patience.

"Shut the fuck up."

31st Winter Moon, 907 – Skeleton Water, Six Minutes until Midnight

"Another drink, Babylas?"

"Heh, I think this'll be my last one for the night. Got to keep the mind sharp."

"Very good."

In the noble town of Skeleton Water, perhaps the most pristine and organized of the towns in the Outlands, Lord Amadeus Rimmer and Babylas Marchand sat together at a tavern serving drinks for the upcoming new year. The residents of the Kricketune's town clinked their mugs together and indulged on the free drinks. Though, unlike most taverns in the Outlands, not a single fight had broken out. All was neat and orderly, the way the lord preferred it.

Amadeus took a gentle sip of his drink and sighed. "Well, thank you for coming all this way on my account. I know I invited you for the festivities, but business never rests."

"Can't handle it yourself?" the Banette asked, taking another sip from his mug.

"I have responsibilities as mayor of this town, and seeing as my only opponent for the title has yet to return, I dare say my reign over Skeleton Water remains firm. Plus, I trust you to get the job done swiftly."

Babylas chuckled softly. "Well, you flatter me. So, what was so important that you needed my help?"

"Are you familiar with the Disciples of Harriet?"

"Tch. Who hasn't?"

"Well, you know how it is. A recent stirrup of trouble. She'll train anyone under her martial art. She seems keen on finding someone worthy to learn her secrets." Amadeus chuckled. "Though, I'm in the know with lots of things, and I'm aware of the secret to her strength. No one will ever reach her level. It's not a matter of strength they need to overcome, thus they keep pushing themselves under the delusion they'll get stronger."

"In other words—" Babylas asked.

"One of those disciples happened onto my town a couple weeks ago. An ambassador to one of the gangs I'm in contact with. Same old business, just coming to discuss trade routes and territory agreements for his boss. He stayed a couple nights."

"Annnnnnd…?"

Amadeus closed his eyes and sighed. "He got drunk and ended up starting a fight with one of my subordinates. Naturally, I taught my men to fight with honor, and he tried to talk our visitor down. I trust the strength of my men, but…I didn't realize our visitor was a disciple of Harriet at the time. He ended up killing my subordinate. Broken bones and blood splattered over the street. You might've seen it on the way here."

"Ah. I thought that was a design choice." Babylas sipped his mug. "So, you want me hunt this guy down and kill him?"

"You and Helmut are responsible for contract killings, though Helmut is busy with his own mission. Plus, I have faith in your abilities should a fight break out."

"Who is this guy?"

"A Barraskewda named Marinus."

"…You're joking, right?"

"I don't joke about my gang."

"A Barraskewda was sent to run negotiations with you?"

"If you accept the contract, you'll see what I mean."

Babylas sighed and finished off the last of his drink. "Fine, whatever. What gang does he come from?"

"The Dead Men Soldiers."

The Banette's lips curved into a smirk. "Now you have my attention. Alright, you've got a deal."

"Excellent." Amadeus reached around himself and pulled out a rolled piece of parchment. "I took the liberty of writing up a contract in advance, so—"

"Nah." Babylas slid out from his seat and stretched his arms. "This one's on the house. I'll have the asshat killed by the end of next week. Thanks for the drinks." He made his way toward the door.

"Marchand." Babylas stopped and peeked over his shoulder. The Kricketune shot him a weary glare. "Though your time with us hasn't been that long, I feel I've gotten to know you well enough to understand your…quirks."

"Alright?"

"This isn't the first time you've rejected a contract like this."

He shrugged. "What can I say? We're allies. I'd hate to see my subordinates killed if I had any—"

"No, you've taken contracts like that before. You reject payment for any contract involving a disciple of Harriet."

"…"

"Why is that exactly?"

"…" Babylas glanced at the wall clock above his head and smirked. "Don't overthink it, old man." He brought his fingers to his lips and whistled, calling down his ten Shedinja from the rafters above. "I'm just following the nature of warfare. That's what you do when you're at war."

A bell rang across the town, and the tavern patrons clashed their mugs together and laughed with joy. Amadeus narrowed his eyes at the Banette as he pushed open the batwing doors and let himself out into the snow.

"Happy New Year, Lord Rimmer. Another year in this hellscape awaits us."