Skeleton Water, in its own way, was a skeleton of its former self. The proud hideout of the renowned Lord Rimmer, serving as the epitome of class within the Outlands, now lay in ruins from one final battle serenaded by his grand masterpiece. Despite the damages and the injuries and deaths inflicted upon his loyal crew, he held no regrets for his actions.

Kneeling in a pool of his own blood with both his arms cleaved from his shoulders, the dying Kricketune could do no more but gaze up at the setting sky with tears trickling down his face. The majesty of Phoebe's final attack burned into his memory, the final memory he would take with him into the afterlife.

Speaking of Phoebe, the Aipom lay motionless on the severed road, showing no immediate signs of life. Some may even assume she was dead. The injuries she incurred would do most in for a swift grave.

"Hey. Burkhard."

But death wasn't ready to take her life.

Stirring from her brief slumber, the Aipom craned her neck and looked up at Amos, his shadow looming over her. She glared at him, her eye twitching from the dust resting on her cornea. "Of course…the first thing I hear in Hell is your fucking voice…"

He scoffed. "This place is too shitty to be Hell."

Phoebe pressed her hands down and pushed herself back onto her feet. "Fuuuuuuck…" She stumbled back on her heels and groaned. "Everything hurts." She held a hand over her heart, groaning louder. "Yep, still…ticking…" Her legs collapsed on her, and she fell forward.

Amos immediately reached out and caught her, wincing from his own injuries. He sighed as he felt the Aipom snoring against his shoulder. He wiped the blood that splattered against his cheek off before picking her up in his arms.

Evelot shuffled over to his side and whimpered at Phoebe's condition. "Oh no…"

Amos glared. "She'll be fine. She just needs some rest."

"That requires a lot more than a rest!" she gasped.

He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't talking about her body." He shook his head softly. "Enduring all of that without being cut to ribbons like me? Seems she found some degree of peace with herself. Tch. Of course this bitch found inner peace before me. Always trying to one-up me."

Evelot eased up, sensing the care in the Gligar's harsh words. She extended her hand and patted the sleeping Aipom's leg. "I'll get to work on brewing healing potions for her."

"Yeah. She needs them."

The duo walked ahead to meet with Caractacus and Magni, who were now standing over the dying Kricketune as he bled out from his chest and shoulders. Amadeus barely moved an inch since receiving his injuries, staying strong purely by the euphoria overflowing within him.

Caractacus crossed his forelegs. "I say we won the bet, Lord Rimmer. Not bad, right?"

"…" Amadeus chuckled softly. "She could've never come up with a plan that insane, but she would be crazy enough to test it. I was right to be wary of that cunning mind of yours, MacGyver."

Caractacus proudly rubbed his metal paw against his chest. "I aim to surpass."

Magni glared. "We win. You lose. Give info."

"…" Amadeus tilted his head a bit and saw Amos and Evelot walking up with Phoebe in tow. He sighed. "The poor thing. She pushed herself to her limits just to take me down. I'd be so proud if I wasn't so ashamed in my actions. She truly fought like a savage and a gentlewoman."

Amos glared at the snoozing Aipom in his arms. "…Gentlewoman may not be the right word."

Amadeus closed his eyes. "All my life, I've known nothing more than the harsh reality of this cruel land. Born into a realm of crime and dispassion. I saw only the id of its people taking reign of their destinies, no sense or reason or love. Boso Burkhard was…perhaps the worst of that depravity, and I sometimes wondered if his daughter would become the second coming of his legacy. I never thought such evil could be cured…but how happy I am to be proven wrong."

"…Riiiiight," Caractacus groaned. "Anyway, about that information we need—"

"Do not make the same mistakes as us old men," Amadeus continued, much to Caractacus' annoyance. "The creatures born into this harsh world are a breed unlike any other. Cruelty can be born from the most unlikely places. All it takes is one bad day to change the course of a good man's soul." He glanced at Evelot. "And a cycle of hatred will be born from that cruelty."

Her eyes widened. "W…What?"

"Info. Now. Dépêche-toi," Caractacus ordered through clenched teeth as he watched more of the Kricketune's blood dripping down his sides.

Amadeus ignored him and continued, "You all…have a special bond. Unstable. Dysfunctional. Self-destructive. Downright incompatible. But special nonetheless." He leaned forward and coughed up some blood, shivering as his body started to grow colder. "Ack…do not pursue the truth. There are some things in the world that weren't meant to be. Otherwise, you may have to deal with him."

"…Absalom," Amos guessed.

"He is not normal. Something about his soul…always felt toxic to me. A parasite of a greater power. He is not someone who can be reasoned with. He seeks only to cause despair and misery for he believes that is the punishment…of this land. He is…much older than he looks. He is…he is…" Amadeus coughed up another pool of blood.

"Who Absalom?" Magni asked.

"We've already ran into him along the way here," Amos added.

"Abel Underhill. Tick tock," Caractacus reminded impatiently.

"…Then you best hope you can do the impossible and disappear, because he is a harbinger of death throughout this land," Amadeus whispered.

Evelot's eyes widened. "Harbinger of…?"

"…The 31st Rebirth Moon."

Evelot nervously shifted behind Amos and trembled. That…I'm just imagining things, right?

"Absalom possesses a long-forgotten power, a byproduct of…all of this, he says. The twin powers of the greater force, and he possesses its rarer half. Do not take him lightly, and plea that you can avoid a second confrontation with him."

"…" Caractacus glared. "He is none of our concern. Now, give us what we want."

"…" Amadeus sighed. "Do not let that detachment of yours chain your soul down, MacGyver. You have something good here. Don't lose it in the name of your pride." He glanced at the sleeping Aipom. "When Phoebe awakes, please…tell her I'm proud of the woman she has become."

Amos nodded. "We will."

"…Thank you." Amadeus raised his head and looked toward the sky. "My time…has come. I lived a good life. May my soul find salvation." He closed his eyes as his mind and body started to drift. "Abel Underhill—"

"Finally," Caractacus grumbled through clenched teeth.

"He…sought seclusion from the forces that be. A change of heart from desperate times. Seek his resting ground below the underground asylum…of Dead Man's Fiiiiiield…"

The last of his strength faded, and the Kricketune finally fell to eternal slumber. His head drooped forward, and his body remained permanently affixed atop his knees, a ceremonial end to such a majestic swordsman. Under the glow of the setting sun, his body illuminated in a halo before the alchemical company.

A moment of silence was granted for his passing as the company stared at the fresh corpse kneeling before them. A truly skilled opponent, and a benchmark for the troubles that stand before them in the near future.

This was a mark for what hardship they'd have to face, but they knew they would be ready for whatever comes—

"Wait a fucking minute." Amos narrowed his eyes. "Dead Man's…Field?"

"…" Caractacus' eyes widened. "Dead Man's Field?"

"Eh?" Evelot asked.

"That's…" Amos' eye twitched. "That's where we were fucking going before that bastard pig monkey sent us here!"

"You mean…we came all the way here for nothing?!" Caractacus snapped.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!" their voices roared over the ruins.

After the men finished screaming and kicking through the rubble from their wasted time, the company made their way back to the carriage, collecting Phoebe's rifle along the way. Magni was loaded into his harness, and the crew set their sights in the direction of Dead Man's Field.

Evelot got to work whipping up healing potions for Phoebe. Amos sat next to the bottom bunk, pulling off some of his own bandages. He kept an eye on the sleeping Aipom, who seemed to be resting soundly despite not being properly treated yet. Her bed sheets were stained in her blood even after wrapping her wounds. They didn't have much in the way of cleaning supplies, so she would have to make do with that for however long they travel.

"I can't believe how reckless those two were," Evelot mumbled, stirring up a potion. "What were they thinking? Switching Phoebe's position with a bullet? The sudden change in momentum could've killed her!"

Amos shrugged. "It didn't."

"Please don't act so calmly over this."

"She won, and we got what we wanted. Win-win."

Evelot groaned. "I'm surrounded by crazy people."

"Get used to it." Amos glanced at the snoozing Aipom again. "She did what she set out to do, and that's all that counts."

"Feel like she could've been a little more cautious," she grumbled. "I think I'm going to use some Rainbow to make healing bullets for you."

He raised his brow. "Healing bullets?"

"As a precaution. Theoretically, they should dissolve the moment they make contact with the body, and any damage that would be inflicted would be undone."

"Yes, because my first instinct towards healing myself is to shoot myself in the head."

"We'll test them just to be sure."

Amos shrugged and leaned back against the bunk, having not slept properly in the last few days. He wanted to take the moment to close his eyes and rest. They had a long road ahead, and he wanted to be rested for whatever horror show came their way next.

"…Heh. Worried about me, Lamecaster?"

He opened his eyes and craned his neck, looking up at the sleepy-eyed Aipom staring at the bunk above her. "I was expecting you to be knocked out for weeks."

She smirked wearily. "Please. Don't sell me so short. I'm tougher than I look."

"Well, the new eyepatch certainly sells the look."

Phoebe rested her hand over the cloth covering her scarred face. "Yeeeeeah, that stung like hell…"

"Too bad you didn't die. Now I'm forced to deal with your nauseating attitude again."

"Oh, you expected me to die when you know I couldn't just leave you behind without a stomped ego? Haha, you foolish scorpion."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I suppose no afterlife would've accepted you through their gates, anyway. Good or bad."

"…" Phoebe closed her eye and sighed. "Sounds about right. My life in a nutshell. But who am I to die when I've got this doofus to protect?"

"Heeeey," Evelot whined.

"Life sucks, but…eh, dying's too much of a hassle."

Amos shrugged. "Suppose so."

"…You know, you didn't have to pretend to support me back there. I bet you were secretly rooting for Lord Rimmer to kill me."

"…" Amos scoffed. "Don't be a moron. I was a dead man walking. My life was, unfortunately, in your hands."

"Heh. So, you were praying I would come out alright?"

"I knew you would win. I didn't need to do something as pointless as praying to know your bad attitude would win out in a death match."

"Heh. True. I am pretty amazing."

"Amazingly irritating."

"…Amos."

The Gligar's eyes widened briefly. When was the last time she ever addressed him by his actual name? Had she ever called him by his name? It felt…weird, almost. He looked back over his shoulder, spotting her soft expression. "Yeah?"

"…" She turned onto her side, facing away from him. "I'm…sorry for mocking you. Mocking your past, I mean. I don't know what you went through, and…it was wrong of me to belittle you. I still don't give a shit about your existence, but…I guess there's too much hate in this world. Might as well clear the air before I feel shittier than I already felt."

Amos narrowed his eyes. "You're a couple weeks overdo on that apology, you know that?"

"I'm not much of a people person."

"…" Amos sighed and leaned back against the bunks. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"As I've been told."

"…Apology accepted."

"…" Phoebe closed her eye and smiled softly. "Heh. Night, Lamecaster." She nestled under her bloodied sheets and drifted off to sleep.

Amos cast another glance at her before smiling to himself and drifting off himself. Night, Burkhard.

Evelot contained her squeals. Though it still carried the rough edges, she could sense the genuine compassion in their words. Months of dealing with their bad attitude, some genuine progress was blooming into…an unstable and frankly cruel friendship, but a friendship, nonetheless.

Compared to their arguing, she'll take it.

However, she couldn't stay on the happy moment forever. As her eyes drifted back to her workstation, finishing up the healing potion, her mind wandered back to Amadeus' warning regarding Absalom.

"Don't take this personally. Revenge…no longer matters to me."

"And a cycle of hatred will be born from that cruelty."

Evelot nervously covered her right eye, feeling that side of her body growing hotter. Who…was that woman? Who killed my family?

All the while, she would remain oblivious to the stone cube tucked away in storage, glowing in reaction to the Mimikyu's stress.

"Of all the rotten, backwards, wasted…AGH!"

Magni had long since tuned out Caractacus' ranting, trudging along in the direction he was instructed towards. It had been about an hour since they left Skeleton Water, yet it amazed the Scolipede how one mechanical hound could possibly expel so much vitriol in limited breaths.

"That's the last time I listen to the sagely advice of supposed mystics!" he yelled. "But no, I had to waste my time dealing with someone's melodrama and spending three days in the desert concocting a plan that ended up being use a gun!" He finally allowed himself to breathe and hunched over in exhaustion. "I never want to see another Deadly Seven member even if it kills me."

Magni glared over his shoulder. "Waste of time?"

He sighed. "Well, not a total waste of time. I got some valuable information regarding Alpha and Logos, so something useful came out of this humdrum." He glared off to the side. "There is that worrying notion about this forgotten power Absalom possesses. Come to think of it, he did somehow survive getting shot in the head, so he's definitely not normal."

"Plan?"

"The plan is to avoid anymore confrontations while we still can." He crossed his forelegs. "Four of the seven sins are dead. We still have their top two elites to deal with, but at least the last guy shouldn't be too much trouble by process of elimination. Not like any of them can do much to me."

Magni rolled his eyes. "Uh huh."

Caractacus scratched his chin. "What a puzzling predicament we find ourselves in, though." He looked back into the carriage. "When we got everyone back into the carriage, Alpha reacted again. I'm more sure than ever that he's reacting to Evelot."

Magni glared. "Friends won't like…scheming."

Caractacus smirked. "You going to snitch on me, big guy?"

"Friends not…experiments."

"We made a contract. This is a business relation. I want all I can about Evelot's connection to Logos. There's something about it that tickles me with fascination. Who cares if I step on toes to get some answers? You all are expendable to me, anyway."

"…" Magni looked ahead and huffed. "Lies."

"Pfft. Believe what you want, big guy. Once I get what I want, it's off to my next pet project."

"They your friends."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me the deceased lord's words reached you? Perish the thought. I have no desire for connections of the emotional variety. Far too illogical for my tastes. Contracts are more reliable. I don't need drivel such as friendship."

"…Mhmm."

"Oh, don't you mock me. Just focus on getting us to Dead Man's Field." He rolled his eyes again. "I swear, we should've just ignored that blasted pig monkey. Trekking all the way out here for nothing and…" Caractacus paused a moment, blinking up at the sky.

"Problem?"

He groaned and massaged his face. "A brief spell of déjà vu. I think I've ranted on too much about this tiresome week." He leaned back in his seat and lazily scratched his chest.

He paused again and curiously inspected his mechanical paw, finding that the claws had been deployed without his knowledge. He didn't remember opening them, either.

"Huh…" He groaned and sheathed his claws. "I'm in more need of sleep than I realized." He sunk into his seat and closed his eyes, letting the gentle rocking of the carriage lull him to slumber.

All was quiet among the carriage. The occupants inside were settling into the night, Caractacus drifted off to sleep, and Magni kept his focus firmly on the path ahead without once averting his eyes.

A long and hopefully peaceful journey for the six occupants of the carriage.

…Six?

"Sleep. What a wonderful feeling. How I miss it so."

Sitting atop the carriage, a stowaway who sat in plain view for all to see, was a cloaked Slowking. His cloak fluttered in the breeze. He was dressed in a purple coat with a fluffy collar that covered part of his snout and blue trousers. He wore blue-tinted glasses where the lenses and frames were shaped like clouds. Sheathed around his waist was a dagger, and the shape of the scabbard indicated the blade possessed a twisted, wavy shape akin to a kris sword.

"But then again, are any of us truly awake? Or are we just drifting along in another dream? How I wish I could tell the difference."

13th Rebirth Moon, 908 – Ruins of Skeleton Water

The death and decay that transpired the previous day remained unchanged. Many who survived their untimely encounter with Amadeus' final attack dragged themselves out of the wreckage and took shelter wherever they could to lick their wounds.

Soon, the destroyed town was met with two travelers who stood before the kneeling corpse of its lord. The glassy-eyed Kricketune, without a sign of breath or life, stood still in a dried patch of blood with his head hanging and his body stained in his own blood.

"…Well darn, and I actually liked him."

"Now do you see how dangerous these guys are?"

Babylas flicked his cloak before walking around Amadeus' corpse. "All I see is a dead man. Anyone can kill anyone with a knife."

Vilgot glared and hopped after the Banette, adjusting the skull he was wearing as a helmet. "Try using that logic against a Tyranitar. Besides, this was Amadeus we're talking about. He's not someone you can just kill with a knife."

Babylas walked alongside the rubble of a lacerated building, running his hand along the protruding board. "Yet to cause all this damage? I don't think he was fighting for his life. I think he was having fun and got carried away. Can't be helped someone took advantage of that."

Vilgot groaned. "Why are we even wasting our time here? Should we bury Amadeus already and get going?"

"Hmm, no. I think he would appreciate having his body displayed in the town. He was always obsessed with beauty or whatever, so why not leave him to be worshipped? I mean, he died in such a dignified state, too. I dare not disturb him when he looks so picturesque."

"Then let's get a move on and go after the Broken Glass halfwits before they get too far!" Vilgot snapped. "The longer we wait here, the more likely we'll lose track of them."

"Oh, I know exactly where they're going. We have nothing to worry about." Babylas looked around briefly before smirking. "Seems Helmut already got a head start on us. I haven't seen him yet."

Vilgot groaned. "I haven't seen Helmut in ages. I feel like I'm always out of the loop whenever he pops up. How do you know he didn't pull his disappearing shtick on you?"

"The same reason he's not stupid enough to pick a fight with me: I'll know." Babylas ran a finger under his eyepatch, playing with the cloth, before walking across the lacerated street. "No need to be so impatient. I'll catch up to them in no time. I just want to give everyone else a chance before I inevitably capture Ms. Faucher."

Vilgot gripped the edge of Ulrich's skull. "When I get my hands on them, they're going to pay."

Babylas chuckled. "This is not a business to let personal feelings get in the way. You should know that."

"I can't help it. They took my best friend away from me. I want to finish what Ulrich started. I'll start by getting my hands on Burkhard."

"Heh. Good luck with that." Babylas knelt over a pile of glass and picked a shard up. It looked to belong to a bottle of liquor, and the glass was smudged with ash. It was likely used as a firebomb. "You barely survived your encounter, and they managed to do this to Amadeus."

"I don't care. Even if it gets me killed, I will have my revenge." He growled. "And I'll start by torturing Burkhard the same way they torture me. Let's see how she likes it when I take away her best friend."

"…" Babylas looked over his shoulder, flashing his usual permanent grin, though there was an air of malice behind it. "You do understand we need Faucher alive, right?"

Vilgot scoffed. "Cain just needs her mind, right? He gets what he wants out of her, then I get the rest. I can have the both of them strapped down, and I'll forced Burkhard to watch as I torture her friend until she suffers the same grievous wounds that they inflicted on Ulrich. All of this just for Evelot Faucher? Well, I hope she thinks it was worth it, because I have a whole list planned out for what I intend to do to her!"

"…" Babylas turned away and chuckled softly. "How petty."

"Is it? I'm serious. She'll beg me to stop torturing that raggedy shadow, but I won't. Knives, electrocution, acid, whatever I can get my hands on! This is what Ulrich would want, and I'm willing to go beyond the limits of morality to make them suffer for his death! Wouldn't you do the same for someone you cared about?!"

"…Yes. Yes, I suppose I would." Babylas dusted his hands off and approached the Flapple, looming over him. "I suppose. I. Would."

Vilgot blinked twice, now feeling small under the Banette's gaze. His smile. He couldn't describe why, but something about it sent chills through his skin. He understood Babylas was strong, but…his aura alone projected something truly intimidating. Like a savage whose presence alone forbade the act of running. Whose presence devoured fear's desire to run and hide.

"We have plenty of time to catch up with them. Shall we…raid the remains of the tavern and have ourselves a drink?"