8th Rebirth Moon, 908 – Middle of Nowhere

The aimless search continued for the Broken Glass Alchemical Company, their destination unknown, and their goal virtually unobtainable. With Magni guiding the way through the snow-covered plains of the Outlands, the company hung out inside their new carriage, either passing the time or trying to formulate a plan for locating their target.

Abel Underhill, a man almost none of the company knew about save for Caractacus. They were searching for a man who went missing and might possibly be dead. It was the most useless lead ever, and their chances of finding Last Autumn's base by chance seemed better than finding a dead man.

So, in other words, back to their usual routine.

Amos lounged on one of the bottom bunks, mindlessly kicking his foot at the air while trying to brainstorm leads. Phoebe was in the corner kitchen, making herself some lunch. Evelot messed with her potions while Caractacus tinkered with some metal. He had an assortment of gadgets laid out across the table.

Among his inventions was a sphere that, after turning a crank on the bottom, split open like a steel trap and violently gnashed its teeth together like a possessed nutcracker. Caractacus grinned. "Ooh, my chomping bombs are running at peak efficiency."

Amos glared across the carriage. "Why…do you even have those?"

He shrugged. "I thought of them, therefore I built them. Now I just need to figure out what to use them for."

"Oh my Arceus…" Amos turned onto his side and buried his head under a pillow.

Evelot reached inside her costume and pulled out a vial of Rainbow. "We may have to stop soon so I can make a new batch of Rainbow. I'm running a bit low."

Caractacus stopped tinkering with his inventions and scooted across the carriage. He propped himself on the back of her chair and grinned. "I'd be more than welcomed to help you, dear Evelot."

She whimpered and pushed him away. "N-No! It's a Faucher family secret! I'm the only one who knows how to properly make the formula!"

"Ah, come on, let me see!"

"Nnnnoooo!"

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Fuck off, Tac. She said no."

He grinned over his shoulder. "Aww, why the fuss?"

"Didn't we tell you that she's being hunted for that formula?! You'll just make yourself an even bigger target for Last Autumn." She paused a moment before shrugged. "Actually, given they're after you as well, they'd be getting two for the price of one. Evelot, teach him the formula!"

Caractacus scoffed. "You hate my company that much?"

"If you keep bullying Evelot, you'll see how much I really hate you."

"I'm not bullying her. I'm just a curious mind. We're kin that way."

"And kin tend to beat the snot out of each other for sport." She grinned evilly at him. "Want to be kin, Tac?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're as pleasant as the day I met you. Then again, for an alchemist's assistant, you weren't all that bright."

She huffed as she slathered some jam onto her freshly cooked roll. "I'll have you know I've improved my alchemical knowledge quite a bit, thank you!"

"Oh really? What can you make?"

"Oho! You'd be envious of what I've learned to craft, but I'm afraid that secret stays with me." She smirked. "Being curious is a blessing and a curse, you know."

He scoffed. "Oh, you tricky monkey. I'll steal a confession out of you eventually."

"Oh, do try. I look forward to your failure."

Amos pulled the pillow off his face and sat up. "Uuuugh, will you two shut up?! I can't hear myself think with your bickering!"

Phoebe snickered. "I suppose the echoing would get loud in that empty head of yours—OOF!" Amos chucked a pillow across the carriage and knocked her to the floor.

"Well, good thing your big head makes for an easy target," he snarked.

Phoebe picked herself up and presented the pillow that now had her jam-slathered bread sticking to it. "Thanks for ruining my lunch, asshole! It's got your gross sweat on it now!"

Caractacus smirked. "I'd assume a carnivore like yourself would love the smell of raw specimens." She chucked the pillow at him, but it stopped against his Negative Space. "Did I strike a nerve?"

She scoffed. "Unlike Lamecaster over there, nothing gets under my skin."

Amos scoffed back. "Really? I don't remember that when you were crying back in Crimehallow."

"I was worried about Evelot, not your lame insults. Huge difference."

Evelot groaned, gently massaging her temples. Maybe I should join Magni outside. He doesn't start fights like these three. Deciding to break up the bickering, she spun around in her chair and asked, "Anyway, any suggestions on where to begin our search?"

Her intersecting question did the trick, pausing the verbal onslaught to ponder a potential destination. Amos was the first to speak up. "There aren't a whole lot of towns in the Outlands, and we still don't have a lead on Abel's whereabouts since his last sighting. We could go to Dead Man's Field."

Caractacus laughed. "Ooh, bad idea."

Phoebe glared. "Why?"

"Well, according to the locals, it's haunted~. Eerie happenings dwell below the town. They say it was home to an underground asylum used back in the day to house the mentally ill. Their ghosts still haunt those halls~!"

"EEP!" Evelot ducked behind her chair.

Caractacus laughed. "A bunch of nonsense. It's likely just the wind blowing through openings. Besides, bad idea to go through the asylum. They say the passages have become so unstable that it's a network of tunnels akin to the labyrinth under the Echo Bell capital. You can easily get lost down there. Maybe to never be seen again."

Amos rolled his eyes. "Well, we're not exactly in the best position to be taking chances. Dead Man's Field, anyone?"

Evelot gulped. "Uh…maybe that can be last on our journey?"

Phoebe shrugged. "Could always check out Knife's Edge. There's plenty of places to hide out there. Maybe someone saw Abel jumping into the ocean. Though, at that point, not a whole lot of information to pull afterwards."

Amos reclined back in his bed and groaned. "There's always Skeleton Water we could check out—"

Phoebe's eyes widened briefly. "Uh…"

He glared at her. "What?"

"…" She turned her back and waved it off. "Eh, don't bother with that shithole. I doubt Mr. Underhill would wind up there without making a scene."

"Hmm…"

Caractacus smirked. "Do I sense a tremor of trepidation, Ms. Burkhard?"

She stuck her tail's middle digit at him. "Fuck you, I just know Skeleton Water will be a dead end. Let's just go to Dead Man's Field instead—" Their conversation paused as the carriage rolled to a stop.

Amos jumped off his bed and walked up to the windows. "What the?" He lifted a window and peeked his head out. "Magni! What's the hold up?"

The Scolipede craned his neck around the carriage, looking at him with a worried grimace. "Company."

Seeing his distress, Amos closed the window and kicked the carriage door open. Phoebe followed him out with her rifle loaded. Caractacus joined after with a causal air about him while Evelot trembled behind the doorframe.

Amos loaded a bullet into his pincer and took aim once he rounded the carriage. "Alright, who's holding us up?"

Standing before the carriage and blocking further travel was an obscure figure hidden under a heavy gray cloak. He possessed a round shape, and he was dressed in a blue jacket and black pants. The only distinguishing feature about him was the piercing red eyes projecting from under the darkness of his hood.

Amos and Phoebe felt a sense of unease staring at the man even with their weapons trained on him. Caractacus, however…

"Oooh, scary," Caractacus mused, not the slightest bit intimidated by the man's eerie aura. "You seem like an unfriendly face this far out in nowhere. Have you come to rob us? You'll find very little worth stealing, though I'm more than grateful to show you some of my inventions as a treat. They'll leave you stunned."

The figure narrowed his eyes. "You are…the Broken Glass Alchemical Company."

Amos clenched his teeth. "And who's asking? We're not exactly friendly faces ourselves, unless you want to hear the body count we've racked up."

The stranger raised his hands. "I am not here to fight. I am merely a passing traveler."

Phoebe scoffed. "And yet you know who we are, so not a convincing story."

"I give my solemn word that I will not raise my fist to you all. I merely wish to talk. You'll find I'm a reasonable man who…only wants to help the lost."

Caractacus smirked. "What? You know we're lost?"

"In more ways than one, yes." The stranger grabbed his hood and pulled it back.

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Oh no…"

Amos growled. "Of all the…!"

Hidden beneath the hood was one of the last creatures one wanted to see in the middle of nowhere. A rare sight, but also an example of the raw power of Pokémon. It was an evolution believed to have been myth in the old days, one that could only be achieved at the high of raw emotional fury. To see one on your travels was an omen for disaster.

Standing before the company…was an Annihilape.

Normally seen with their hair standing up, this one had his hair matted back. The red glow of his eyes was less pronounced, and they could see the dark circles under his eyes. Though a threatening Pokémon, this one appeared weary and devoid of ambition.

The Annihilape nodded softly at the startled company. "Now that I've got your attention, may I interest you in some lunch?"

Memories blurred and body shaken, the survivor Vilgot stirred from his deep slumber, thoughts of himself sinking into the endless void believed to be his final. He peeled his eyes open, taking in the soft daylight bathing his skin. The cold air grazed him, but he was shielded under a heavy blanket that kept him warm.

"Huh…?" the Flapple groaned.

"Oh good, you're alive. I was beginning to think I was preserving a corpse."

Vilgot turned onto his side and saw Babylas resting on his cot, staring at the sky with his usual grin hanging on his face. Memories of before flooded back to Vilgot, recalling his chance encounter with the Banette after crawling out from the rubble in Copper Gorge.

He covered his bruised face and groaned. "How long was I out?"

"About two days. I patched you up as best I could. I even gave Ulrich a good cleaning. Looked like he hadn't had a bath in months."

"…" Vilgot rolled onto his other side and found the skull of his friend laying beside him, the ash and grime cleaned off. His skull looked pristine and new. Vilgot picked the skull up and hugged it against his chest, shuddering at the thought of what happened to Ulrich in his final moments.

Babylas sat up and yawned. "Looks like you two had a nasty encounter with our targets. I'm surprised someone actually managed to kill Ulrich. An idiot he was, he wasn't weak, either."

"…" Vilgot glared. "Lancaster killed him."

"Amos Lancaster." Babylas grinned. "For a small time crook, he's surprisingly tough." He raised his brow. "So, given that they're all the way over here and nowhere near Crimehallow anymore…"

Vilgot nodded. "Alibrand and Wigbrand were killed, too."

"Shame. I kind of liked them."

"They're strong. They're insane…"

Babylas snickered. "Sounds about right."

"…They found Caractacus MacGyver in Copper Gorge."

"MacGyver?" Babylas squinted in thought. "That's the same fellow Dr. Underhill was looking for, huh? What a lucky find."

Vilgot gritted his teeth, shaking with rage. "Why…am I still alive? Is some cruel god cursing me with the knowledge my friend is dead? Is my purpose now to hunt his killers down and exact revenge? If so, I'll gladly take on the role." He pressed his fingers into Ulrich's skull. "They'll pay for this. They'll all pay."

Babylas lay back down on his cot and chuckled. "Settle down, angry little wyrm. You're not in any condition to go on a revenge spree." He narrowed his eyes in the direction of Copper Gorge. "Still, I'm impressed they've gotten as far as they did. Taking on three of the Deadly Seven is no small feat. The others will eventually get word of this."

Vilgot glared at the ground as he stroked Ulrich's skull. "…Apparently Helmut has been following them. Keeping a close eye on them."

"Hmph. That's foreboding, though hardly the subject of my concern." His smile twitched a bit. "I'm more worried about when Absalom will decide to get involved."

"…" Vilgot looked back at the Banette with a curious glare. "I can't help but sense you and Absalom don't get along."

"Heh. Is it that obvious?"

"You've only been a Deadly Seven for about five years. What quarrel do you have with him?"

Babylas snickered. "You and Ulrich don't know that man like I do. He's not what he seems."

"That's hardly an explanation."

"What even is an explanation? We're all subjects to the same scrutiny. It's the facts we bury that make a man's history, and I've been quite curious about Absalom since the day I stumbled upon the Deadly Seven." Babylas placed a hand over his covered eye. "He knew something, and it made my skin crawl the deeper into his history I looked. You and Ulrich were lucky not to get involved with the darker web of secrets hidden in the Outlands."

"…What do you mean?"

Babylas smirked. "Tell me, are you familiar with the legend? The Ferryman of Destined Tragedy?"

After much debate and caution, the company agreed to lunch with the Annihilape. Caractacus unfolded a table and awning from the sides of the carriage, setting them up into an outdoor seating area. Under the watchful eye of Amos, Phoebe and the Annihilape prepared lunch at the kitchen station. The shockingly collected pig monkey provided a stash of berries to go with their lunches.

The company and their guest gathered around the table with a steaming pot of stew sitting between them. Evelot poured everyone a bowl before helping herself. Magni sat at the end of the table, munching on preserved flesh courtesy of their visit to Crimehallow. It wasn't the most pleasing sight, but Evelot felt best to satiate her friend's appetite when it came howling.

The Annihilape took a gingerly sip of his stew, nodding in satisfaction. "Absolutely divine."

Phoebe scoffed. "Don't praise me too much. You did most of the cooking. I would've just thrown everything in and mashed it together."

"All meals should be savored, for your last meal…could be your last meal."

"…Creepy ass fucker…" she grumbled before returning to her meal.

Seeing as his newfound teammates were devoid of basic communication skills, Caractacus smiled to their guest and said, "So, you travel through the Outlands frequently? Can't say I've ever met you before. I've been around quite a bit."

He nodded. "I keep to myself. Surviving off the land. Rarely interacting with travelers. I do my part to watch out for those who stray too far off the normal path."

Evelot nodded. "Y-Yeah. We've been a bit lost these past couple of days. We're trying to look for someone, but he's been missing for months according to Caractacus."

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about a sickly Hypno wearing a dreary outfit, right?" Caractacus asked.

Their guest shook his head. "Can't say that I have. Perhaps he's already dead."

Amos rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. That gets us nowhere."

"You five seem troubled. Is finding this man important?"

"Tch. That's none of your business. What we want from him concerns us and us alone."

Evelot reached over the table. "Ammo, be nice. He's just curious."

The guest traced his eyes around the table, studying their group. "If I may be so bold, you all have quite the auras surrounding you. Your destinies are intertwined, yet I sense they diverge."

Phoebe smirked. "Makes sense. I'd hate to spend another fucking minute around Lamecaster over there."

Amos rolled his eyes. "You aren't exactly gracious company yourself."

"Oh Arceus…" Evelot groaned.

The Annhilape cleared his throat. "What I mean is, you could say I'm something of a fortune teller."

Caractacus laughed. "Fortune telling? The same nonsense the Arcania Kingdom believes in?"

"It's more like something of a Psychic-Types specialty."

The hound shook his head. "Even so, it's preposterous. Sure, psychics can see the future, but it's not a fixed future. It's why they mostly see things in short bursts. You can hardly change the future in the span of five seconds. Five years, however, is more than enough."

The Annihilape huffed through his nose. "You blind yourself to the reality around you."

"It's science. There's no such thing as destiny, at least by your definition of it. We shape our own destinies."

"…And what makes you think what I'm saying is any different?"

Caractacus crossed his forelegs and sighed. "Fortune telling is using basic information about a person based on general patterns, cultural information, and vague terminology. For instance, it's not uncommon for families in the Great Gate Empire to be large. I could say a couple will have five children, and I'll have a high likelihood of being correct due to the average birthrate in Great Gate between clans and households. And everyone wants to hear they'll be successful one day, and they typically find their own success. It's not fortune telling. You're just repeating what is already known and being mystical about it."

Phoebe smirked. "Well, aren't you a buzz kill?"

"I simply can't stand people trying to sell me their lies. Ridicule."

The Annihilape leaned back in his seat and huffed. "Fate is a lot more real than you think, child. Are you familiar with The Shoemaker and Jirachi? It's old story."

Phoebe crossed her arms. "Isn't that the one about a shoemaker who wished for great fortune, but was killed by a rioting mob?"

He nodded. "He saw a vision of himself being torn apart for his wealth when he wished upon Jirachi's star. So, he took great measures to prevent such a fate. He distanced himself from people, and he became quite cruel. His cruelty eventually led to the death of a child who committed the grave sin of asking for a single coin. Paranoid, he drowned that child in a well, thinking he was after his fortune. But that simple action led to a riot that ultimately killed the shoemaker in retaliation. It's known as the self-fulfilling prophecy."

Caractacus scoffed. "A story meant to ward children away from the temptations of greed. It's a fairytale that invokes the wrath of the bogeyman."

"But the shoemaker wasn't manipulated. He acted according to his will." The Annihilape glared. "See, most see fate as this unchangeable future. It sounds of mysticism and magic. However, the shoemaker's fate came true in response to that prophecy. Even if he never saw the prophecy when he received his fortune, he lost faith in his neighbors and fellow townsfolk for the sake of wealth. He assumed he could change his fate by distancing himself, but the truth is that he was always destined to die because of his will."

Amos glared. "You mean to say the shoemaker was always going to make the wrong decision."

"Because that's the nature of free will: just as we choose our fates, we're also doomed to our vices. Our mistakes. Fate is not like being guided across the stage with puppet strings. You are the puppet of your own stage, but how you play out the story is decided by you. You choose how to live, and you choose how you die."

Caractacus raised his brow, now becoming fascinated. "You claim fate is simply the actions of ourselves?"

"In your own words, MacGyver, it's simple science. The unchanging behaviors and habits of us mortal creatures. There is no secret to fate. It's simply you. You make your own fate, and you end your own fate. And we become slaves to our fate because of our unchanging behaviors."

The hound smirked. "What a fascinating take on the subject. Unchanging fate determined by one's own will. I like it."

Amos glared at the pig monkey. "Alright, and you claim to see our fates, Mr. Fortune Teller? Can you point us to where we need to go?"

The pig monkey glared. "I cannot tell you where to go. That is your decision. However, our fates crossed, so perhaps it is mine to tell you. If you truly know yourself, your fates can change. But that depends on if you want to change."

Evelot shuddered. "I…I'm not sure how I feel about learning my fate."

Caractacus laughed. "I say let him! It might be an amusing theory to dissect."

Phoebe groaned before taking another bite of her stew. "Whatever."

Annihilape focused on her first. After studying her for a moment, he said, "You…harbor a great pain in your eyes. One eye reflects venom, blood, and gore. The other reflects a longing for…love. Which eye do you choose to look through?"

She rolled her eyes. "Riveting deduction."

He turned next to Amos. "You harbor hatred for the world, but also for yourself. You believe you are a damned soul without a purpose, lost in the present with no consideration for your past or future."

Amos scoffed. "Is that so?"

He turned to Caractacus afterwards. "Your fate tells me you've been running away from something, and you're afraid to express a deep guilt over something you started."

Caractacus' face twitched for the briefest moment before he laughed. "What nonsense. Me? Guilty over what? I am beyond such feeble feelings."

Ignoring his arrogance, Annihilape turned to Magni. "Your fate has already reached its conclusion, but you also possess a longing for something. A treasure you lost a long time ago."

"…" Magni looked away.

He finally looked upon Evelot, who froze up under his stare. She laughed nervously. "I…I really don't need my fortune read. I'm perfectly fine being ignorant of the future."

"…" The Annihilape leaned over the table, his eyes glowing brighter. "Tell me something, why does your soul scream with the fury of a wild animal?"

Her eyes widened. "W…What?"

"Do you even know yourself, child? You long for something, too, but it's not something tangible. It's satisfaction for a deep-seated vitriol."

"…I, uh—"

Phoebe immediately put her arm in front of Evelot and glared at the pig monkey. "Oooookay, fucking back off, mister. No more of that."

"…Of course." Annihilape leaned back into his seat.

As Phoebe petted Evelot's back, Amos couldn't help focusing on the shuddering Mimikyu and Phoebe's response with suspicion. It wasn't unlike Phoebe to be protective of the young alchemist, but something about it felt…even more hostile than usual.

"To tell you the truth, I…had some bad thoughts the first few months after losing my family. I can't remember the face of who killed them, but I remember having nightmares of hunting that monster down and…s-slaughtering them. That wasn't who I was. I didn't want to become a killer. I eventually accepted what happened, but sometimes the nightmares return, tempting me to hunt the monster down."

She told me that in confidence when we left Crimehallow. What does Burkhard know? He glared at their strange guest. And how the fuck did he come to that conclusion?

The Annihilape raised his hands and sighed. "I…apologize if I stepped out of bounds. I've been around a long time, thus I tend to get carried away with my stories."

As she was being comforted, Evelot stared at the snow-covered ground, hiccupping as her mind drifted away. Drifted…drifted…

To a fuzzy memory years ago.

Year 901

"This is your fault, you swindling psychopaths!"

"Do you realize the danger you've put us in?!"

Evelot peeked out from behind the corner into her parents' lab. There, she saw her parents (a male Mimikyu and a female Chandelure) being harassed by a group of thugs. The Diggersby leading them slammed his ears down on the table, snarling at her parents.

"If you hadn't sold that crap to my father, we wouldn't be in this situation!" he yelled. "We practically have nooses around our necks!"

Evelot's father crossed his arms and glared at the men. "I wasn't even the one who sold that poison to your father. That would be my father's doing. And even then, it wasn't meant for you. This is your own fault."

Diggersby growled. "Are you kidding me?! Any kid could've gotten their hands on that poison! You're just as guilty as the rest of us!"

"This is the Outlands. Everyone is guilty." Her father jabbed him in the chest. "The maker of a cannon is not responsible for the lives it takes, and therefore I'm not responsible for your crimes. I'd say you deserve them."

"What are you talking about?" a Ninetales asked nervously.

Evelot's mother glared. "You're responsible for the assassination of King Kjell Widforss, aren't you?" Their eyes widened in horror. "Year 873. Died by poisoning on, at the time, Prince Valdemar's birthday. Suspect was the royal chef."

The Diggersby growled with tears in his eyes. "We…We never meant to! We were just getting payback on some snooty noble girl, that's all! She…She…"

Evelot's mother crossed her arms and scowled. "She was the royal chef's daughter. You deliberately gave her poison in hopes she would ingest it."

"W-We thought it would just give her a stomachache, honest!" the Ninetales cried. "We didn't think it could kill someone, much less be used in a cake for the prince!"

Evelot's father scoffed. "Depending on how much was used in that cake, it could've easily killed someone as large as a Wailord. If his son hadn't insisted he had the first slice, you could've been responsible for killing off the rest of their bloodline."

Diggersby clasped his ears together pleadingly. "Please, you have to help us! We thought she went missing all those years ago after her father was executed, but she's back and hunting us down! She already killed two of our friends!"

Evelot's father brushed him off. "You shouldn't have taken the poison from your father. You can deal with the consequences yourself."

He bared his teeth. "If you don't help us right now, you'll regret it! YOU HEAR ME?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT SHE'S CAPABLE OF?! SHE WON'T LET THIS GO UNRESOLVED! SHE'S—"

"I believe you gentlemen have overstayed your welcome."

Evelot pulled back behind the corner as her bodyguard effortlessly snuck up on the thugs and dragged them out of the lab without resistance. She collapsed to the ground and hugged herself, shuddering at the men's scared expressions. They looked like all the others who did business with her parents: eyes filled with paranoia and bloodlust.

Who…Who were they so scared of?

"…Of course, that's the nature of fate: trying to find purpose in the destined call."

Evelot shook out of her daydream, pulling herself back into the Annihilape's story as the others listened on. She whimpered softly, scratching over her right eye while shrinking back under the pig monkey's intense stare.

He sighed. "Some men live their lives never reaching the end, or rather believing their fates extend further than the horizon. But sometimes we are victims of all fates. One's fate is another's tragedy. A robbery is a big score for one, and a death of the innocent bystander. Was it the bystander's fate that drew them to that situation? Was their death a cause of their own will, or is there a tangibility to fate? A tangibility that draws us together like strings on puppets? The sad truth is not all fates are created equally, and some lead to tragedy if you abide by the darkness of your soul."

Amos groaned. "Alright, you like reading into other people's business. What's your story?"

"…" The Annihilape closed his eyes. "Would you believe me if I said I was cursed?"

"I'd laugh in your face, personally," Caractacus said, earning a swift jab from Phoebe across the table (a feeble attempt that resulted in her striking his Negative Space).

Their guest ignored his comment and continued, "Ghost-Types can live for an long time if they possess the will to do so, and my species doesn't always get to live out those moments of longevity. And sometimes the process of our longevity is viewed as a burden. The burden of living, and the burden of following an endless road to your forgotten fate. For a time, I've lost sight of the road ahead, thus I walked through the fog for years. I had no future, but I kept on living in hopes of finding it."

Phoebe glared. "Find anything interesting then, old man?"

"…I was reignited with a purpose. Fate drew me to something that I hadn't seen in a long time. I realized our fates were intertwined, and I hoped that it would allow me to figure out who I am again. That is my purpose given shape."

Caractacus chuckled softly. "Amusing. You do seem like the type to be suffering from an existential crisis. Although, harnessing the power of longevity doesn't sound like a half-bad experiment."

Amos crossed his arms and leaned back. "So, was it fate that drew your path into ours?"

The Annihilape glared. "Perhaps so."

"…" Caractacus laughed again before standing up in his seat. "Well, this has been an amusing chat, but I think I've heard enough." He smirked at the old pig monkey. "So, how do you want to do this?"

Evelot's eyes widened. "Huh? Caractacus, what are you talking about?"

"I may have told a small fib earlier," he admitted. "Though, I couldn't be too sure about my hunch." He snickered at their guest. "But now I've gotten a good read on you, old man. You really think I'm supposed to believe this little meeting was a coincidence?"

"…" Amos, catching onto the Boltund's prattling, got up from his seat and pointed his pincer gun at the Annihilape's head. "Who the hell are you?" Magni shot up to his feet, and Phoebe was already reaching for her rifle while Evelot cowered behind her.

"…" The pig monkey made no sudden movements as he returned to eating his stew.

Caractacus chuckled. "I lied about not recognizing you, though I've never actually seen you before. I know the stories, though. A mysterious vagrant who brings doom to anyone who crosses his path. They say you're a cursed soul who has been wandering the Outlands for two hundred years."

The group's eyes widened. "WHAT?!"

"…" The Annihilape glared up at the grinning Boltund. "I thought you weren't one to believe in fairy tales, MacGyver."

Caractacus raised his paws and laughed. "Those are just the stories, of course, so why not come clean? Are you the Ferryman of Destined Tragedy everyone's so afraid of?"

"…" He put his spoon down and stood up from his chair, putting the group further on edge. "You're a shrewd one, MacGyver. Anything else you want to deduce?"

"Heh. Well, given my acquaintances' recent endeavors, why don't you tell us if you've sinned lately?"

Phoebe gritted her teeth. "Don't tell me…"

Evelot gulped. "Oh no…"

Magni growled, stamping his feet down.

Amos steadied his shaky arm. "Shit…"

"…" The pig monkey stepped back and glared at the company with eyes burning red. "You may refer to me…as Absalom, the Incarnation of Wrath."

"The…Ferryman of Destined Tragedy?" Vilgot narrowed his eyes. "Y-Yeah, I think I've heard that name thrown around once or twice."

Babylas pointed at the sky, tracing his finger along the passing clouds. "Well, let me give you a refresher. It's an old myth about a spirit of misfortune said to have the ability to see the threads of fate. These threads unravel into a beautiful web, connecting each and every creature who impacts each other's fate, no matter how big or how small. He had the gift to change someone's fate from misfortune, but decided to become an observer. He wished to see what leads a person to their own destruction, a fate of ill fortune brought upon by one's own soul."

Vilgot glared. "Annnnd what does this have to do with Absalom?"

"Heh. Weren't you paying attention?"

"I was, but…are you saying Absalom is this ferryman? But that legend started a long, long time ago. I get that he's really old, but that had to have started before he was born."

Babylas shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps so. Ah, but the deeper we delve into mystery, the more inflamed our curiosity becomes. I never trusted Absalom. I couldn't explain it, but there was something about him that ticked me off. Perhaps that, too, was fate leading us together. Eventually, I found my answer. There was reason for my dislike of him."

"Annnd…what was that?"

"Heh." He patted his eyepatch. "Let's just say he's indirectly responsible for the history behind this little injury of mine. And I think even he knows I don't trust him. After all, he's really good smelling the winds of fate, and perhaps it'll be my fate to kill him."

Vilgot crossed his arms. "Wait, are you saying you joined the Deadly Seven to…kill Absalom?"

Babylas sat up. "Not at first. Like I said, I didn't know much about the guy until after I joined. No, I joined because I knew being a Sin would put me in conflict with many, many dangerous people, and that was the motivation I needed to get stronger." He clenched his fist. "After all, I still have a very important contract to complete, and I take my business as a mercenary very seriously."

"…" Vilgot glared in the direction of Copper Gorge. "Well, you sure wasted a lot of time nursing me back to health. Faucher and her friends are probably long gone by now."

"Details, details." Babylas stood up and whistled, calling upon his Shedinja from his shadow. "I'll figure out where they're going eventually. Besides, like you said, Helmut's probably still tailing them. I trust him more than I trust Absalom. That gives me plenty of time to finish the job myself."

"…" Vilgot carefully picked himself up, grabbing onto one of the Shedinja for support. "Let me come with you. I want payback against Burkhard and Lancaster. I need to make them both suffer for what they did to Ulrich and me."

"…" Babylas shot him a suspicious look for a brief moment before snickering. "Eh, why not? Just try not to slow me down."

"Thank you…"

Babylas snapped his fingers, causing his shadow to expand across the ground and swallow up all his camping gear. "Perhaps you'll even learn something from me, kid. You'll see what a real mercenary is capable of."

The Broken Glass Alchemical Company kept their distance from the Annihilape, sensing his killer intent rising in conjunction with his menacing aura. They kept their weapons trained on him while Caractacus laughed, electricity sparking off his fur in excitement.

"The big boss himself graces us with his presence," Caractacus said. "Ooooh, this is going to be fun~."

"Stop enjoying this, you idiot," Phoebe growled. "I don't think you understand what's standing in front of us."

Amos finally got his shaky nerves in order and aimed properly at the Sin of Wrath. "Shitty move sitting us down for lunch before killing us, asshole."

"…" Absalom's hair stopped flowing and fell back down over his head. He raised his hands and calmly said, "I keep my word from earlier. I am not here to fight. I am simply following the path that led us to each other."

Phoebe sneered. "How thoughtful. Allow me to tell you your fortune!" She squeezed her trigger and fired a bullet straight at him.

The back of Absalom's head exploded open from the gunshot, splattering blood and pieces of flesh across the snow. He staggered back with purple glowing blood dripping down his face and back all the way to his legs.

Everyone stared at the pig monkey in shock before turning to the stunned Aipom. "Ooookay, I'm going to be honest. After the last couple of weeks, I was fully expecting him to dodge that or something."

Amos winced. "Yeesh, that was…surprisingly quick. Are you sure he was the strongest of the Deadly Seven?"

She rolled her eyes. "Look, sometimes rumors are overblown, but maybe that'll make you think twice about questioning me—"

"Still standing."

"Huh?" Everyone looked up at a horrified Magni.

"He…still standing. Smoking."

The group looked back at what they presumed to be a corpse, only to see the gunshot wound steaming with a black mist. It was almost like vaporous shadow. Absalom's body briefly twitched before righting itself back up. The Annihilape's eyes flashed red once more as the wound miraculously closed.

He massaged his forehead before glaring at the shivering Aipom. "Impressive. You didn't hesitate."

She gulped. "Uh…"

"But my fate doesn't end here. Yours, however, isn't so fixed. Try that again, and our temporary ceasefire is over."

She gingerly stepped behind Caractacus and laughed nervously. "Whaaaaat? I…I don't even know how to fire a gun. That was my buddy, Lamecaster, who gave you that friendly love tap!"

Amos shot her a quick glare before lowering his pincer gun. "What the hell are you?"

Absalom huffed. "As much as I enjoy telling old stories, the time of our intersection is almost up." He raised his hand and pointed in a seemingly random direction. "If you wish to keep course with your current fates, head that way. That's where you'll find what you seek."

Evelot nervously traced the path of his arm. "I…where?"

Caractacus glared. "That's the direction of Skeleton Water."

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Skeleton…?" She winced. "Oh nnnoooo…"

Amos glared. "What?"

"N…Nothing. It's nothing."

Amos huffed before directing his glare at Absalom. "Why should we believe you? How do we know this isn't a trap?"

"Hmph. I can easily kill all of you with just the heel of my foot. Why would I bother sending you off to a trap? However, I promise you that you won't find welcoming company once you reach your destination."

Amos rolled his eyes. "We're in the Outlands. That comes with the territory."

"Hmph." Absalom turned his back to the group. "It's a day's journey to Skeleton Water. I suggest packing up and making haste with the hours of sunlight you have left."

The group shared an unsure look before ultimately agreeing it was their best chance. Whether or not they should trust the pig monkey, it was a better alternative to aimlessly wandering for clues. Amos nodded to the carriage and ordered, "Let's get moving. Burkhard, strap Magni back in. Crackpot, help me load the carriage."

Caractacus shrugged. "Whatever." He followed behind the Gligar.

Phoebe covered her face and groaned. "Absolutely wonderful." She shook her head and led Magni to his harness.

Evelot began to follow after them, but stopped when she noticed Absalom staring at her. The way his eyes bored into the back of her head gave her the creeps. It was as if he was peeking into her very soul, which only furthered the creepy atmosphere she was sensing from him.

She gulped and asked, "Is…something wrong?"

"…The 31st Rebirth Moon."

Her eyes widened. "I…what?"

He turned away from her and started walking. "I'll be watching you, Faucher. You can't escape your own fate. Soon, you'll finish what you started all those years ago."

A sharp gust of wind blew past Evelot, obscuring her vision in a cloud of powdered snow. Once it passed, she gasped as Absalom had completely vanished. Almost like he was never there.

"I…huh?" she mumbled.

"Hey, Rags!" She jolted and spun around as Amos waved her over. "Get over here and help already!"

She yelped and ran over to them. "R-Right! Sorry!"

What…did he mean by that? The 31st Rebirth Moon? What…does that mean?