1


    For the first time in days, the snow fell normally. There were no furious winds to carry the snow along the hills, just a calm breeze that blew over dusty white over the plains. Vincenzo was above freezing at that point, comfortable in the cold. He liked Winter over Fall and Spring, he decided. It was so empty that he actually found it comforting. It was the perfect place to think, and he did a lot of thinking, much to Cammo’s irritation. It was the end of the sixth week that Plum asked something:


    “Hey, papa?” Plum said, raising her knees high above the deep snow. It was hardest for her to move, and Vincenzo needed to carry her along constantly. She seemed to enjoy that.


    Cammo grunted, letting her know he heard.


    “Will she look familiar?” she questioned.


    “I doubt it,” Cammo said. “They probably fell into the bottom of Fall and fought and ate their way out. They won’t even look like people…”


    Vincenzo shuddered at the memory. “Can we not talk about the bugs, please? I’m never going to look at insects the same way again.”


    Cammo ignored him. “Evil Dead is dangerous. And if they’ve been down there locked in combat, then their bodies have mutated to almost unstoppable proportions… Plum, she will be an abomination. You won’t even recognize her as an emp. Don''t think about it too much.”


    “I think you could have worded it better,” Vincenzo said with a frown.


    “It''s fine,” Plum claimed, patting her brother on the side of his thigh. “I’d rather have an ugly truth than a pretty lie, honestly.”


    “How much longer, Cammo?” Vincenzo asked.


    “Winter is one of the longest sections,” the emp answered. “But we should be close to Spring. Very close.”


    “I kind of like the cold…” Plum said. “I’ve lived in summer most of my life. It''s nice to have a change of pace.”


    “Me too,” Vincenzo agreed, happy she shared his view. “This place is peaceful.”


    “Did I show you what I learned the other day?” Plum asked, growing a little excited.


    “No,” Vincenzo said, “what?”


    “Watch!” Plum said, grinning. “I did this back in Fall…” She began to walk on Glass Houses like a staircase, rising higher and higher until she and her brother were the same height. “Now they don’t even crack! Isn’t that neat?”


    “Woah, yeah, that’s pretty neat,” Vincenzo commented. “Very neat.”


    Plum beamed. “I know! I’m pretty neat, aren''t I?”


    He smiled. “When you say it like that, I don''t want to agree with you.”


    She stuck her tongue out and dropped back into the soft cushion of snow. “It''s tiring, though…”


    “I’d imagine so,” Cammo said. “Now let''s continue.”


    Vincenzo rolled his eyes as they reached the summit of the hill they’d been hiking on, annoyed at the father’s tendency towards apathy. It was one of Plum’s topics of anxiety. “Come on, Cammo, would it kill you to act interested?” he asked, passing him. “Just a little pat on the back would be fine…” He looked over his shoulder and froze solid. Without a word, he dropped the heavy pack on his back to the floor and turned to face them. “We got company…”


    The other two turned to see three figures following along the barren ground. As if nature itself sensed danger, the wind began to pick up, turning the peaceful fall into something more aggressive—a blizzard. Sometimes, Vincenzo hated Winter. The figures were hidden as quickly as they appeared behind a wall of swirling snowflakes, and he knew he wouldn’t see them again until they were right in front of him. Their vision, which had stretched for miles just a second before, was reduced to only about seventy feet.


    “Damn, I wasn’t able to get a good look at them,” Vincenzo said. Heavy Metal didn’t feel so heavy as he loaded two iron shells into its silver barrels, neither wasting energy or time during the rehearsed motion. “But there were three, definitely. One big, one small, and one… huge.”


    “One more than I thought,” Cammo said, dropping his own pack. “Come on. It''s better that we crush them now.”


    Plum dropped her own. “I’m coming too!”


    Both the men exchanged glances.


    “Don’t look at each other like that! Glass Houses is great for defense and I’m in no real danger. All I can do is help,” she explained. “Papa, would Slogine command them to kill me?”


    He paused in thought, before shaking his head. “Slogine wouldn’t.”


    “That part doesn''t matter,” Vincenzo interjected. “What about getting caught in the crossfire?”


    “I’ll stay behind you guys and create walls,” she said, stuffing her crimson scarf in her coat. “That way, you guys won’t have to worry about me at all. Okay? You don’t need to worry.”


    Cammo looked in the direction of whatever monstrosity was approaching, and then back at his daughter, apparently having come to his decision: “Fine.”


    “What?! Really?!” Vincenzo asked.


    A triumphant grin spread across Plum’s small face.


    “She’s right,” Cammo said, tying his sword''s holster across his chest. “She’s too valuable to be killed, and we could use the backup.”


    “And you don’t have a choice,” she taunted playfully. “I’ll protect you both. Okay?”


    Vincenzo looked at her with anxiety, thinking of every way things could go wrong… But, in the end, he promised to trust Cammo’s judgment, didn’t he? “Okay…” he relented. “Just stay behind us… And if things get hairy, just run. We can handle ourselves.”


    “You got it!” she said. “Like I said, you don’t need to worry. If things look dangerous, I’ll back off.”


    The three descended through the violent snow and came to the top of another hill. Cammo judged with the rate they traveled and the time they appeared, they would most likely meet within the minute. At least we have the high ground, Vincenzo thought, staring down the slope. All of a sudden, Winter didn’t seem so peaceful. If things went south, there’d be nowhere to run and no place to hide, and absolutely nothing in the environment of any use. He couldn’t have hoped for a worse arena…


    “Hey,” Cammo said, “do you remember how to defeat them?”


    He nodded. “Get rid of the slug.”


    The wind died down and the rapidly falling snow settled into a flurry—visibility rose due to the change of weather and the unlikely trio saw them. The creatures sat at the bottom of their ambush point. Cammo’s eyes widened as his usual frown was replaced with a worried grimace. Vincenzo’s eyes came alive with the same defiance he showed the world the night prior, gripping Heavy Metal tight in anticipation. And Plum looked as if she was about to cry, but didn’t; she only gasped and uttered a quiet, “No…”


    Locine wore the burned coats from the mound of charred corpses they left behind, and Vincenzo was stunned by her beauty. She was nothing like how Cammo had predicted she’d be, save for the replacement of large ruby eyes to large dead ones of black. Thinking of Plum, he let go with his left hand and squeezed her shoulder. A second later she squeezed back.


    “You don’t have to help,” he whispered. “We can handle this…”


    But Plum shook her head and said with a sad yet determined expression, “No, I’ll help. I have to.”


    Vincenzo reluctantly nodded and looked at the other two minions of the dead:


    Boon looked absolutely monstrous; solid black fur granted all the protective warmth he needed to combat the cold, a long blade replaced his entire left forearm while his right transformed his hand into somewhat of a cannon, and his black eyes blended right in with his face.


    The last one frightened Vincenzo the most—it was the mantis. Its previously black carapace was now a dull, menacing red. The sawblades that ran through its arms were larger and sharper than before, yet it did not seem to mind the extra weight.


    “Slogine’s better than he was before,” Cammo stated. “He’s stronger and they’re stronger…” He grit his teeth as he sighed, unsheathing his thick blade. “We might lose… But follow my lead anyway.”


    Vincenzo nodded.


    “I’ll take my wife and the insect. You take the bastard. Plum, cover him,” Cammo ordered.


    “Both of them? I barely survived against that bug. Are you sure you can take them?” Vincenzo asked.


    “I’ll be fine. Just take him out,” Cammo said, as a dark green light enveloped him. “This, Vincenzo, Plum, is all that stands in our way. Show no mercy.”


    He slid down towards the monsters, sword drawn. Vincenzo followed with Plum behind him, before they split off in Boon’s direction. And the monsters divided themselves exactly how they planned.


    2


    Boon’s height and musculature were already enough to intimidate him, but the weapons on each of his giant arms were his real worry.


    “Round two, trash,” Vincenzo muttered.


    He fired both barrels and tore a large chunk of meat off its chest, almost toppling the furry giant. These iron shells do way more damage than wood, Vincenzo thought, grinning. Plum slid down a small amount to get a better look. “Don’t come down too far,” Vincenzo ordered, loading two more shells. “We’re not done yet.” When he said that, the hole he had carved out closed with vibrant red muscle, and stepped forward, sword arm raised. He aimed at its face next. He fired a powerful blast in the center of Boon’s head, blowing it apart, but still it stood, reconstructing its emotionless face. That was when Vincenzo noticed that twenty eyes replaced every feature of his bare head except the mouth, and he felt each one stare at him. Boon went from passive to active in a second, lunging forward so fast that Vincenzo barely had time to react, bringing its blade down on him like an executioner. A rippling blue wall deflected the attack while Vincenzo reloaded—Thanks Plum, he thought in that wild moment—before Boon stabbed at him again, only for hot metal to blast the blade off its arm at the elbow! Another shell aimed at his ankle sent the corpse to its knees. Boon used his bulging stump for support as he aimed his fleshy cannon towards his pale attacker. A giant eye sat inside the barrel and began to glow a brilliant red… “LASER!” Vincenzo yelled, dodging to the left. Deadly light shot past him and into the snow, kicking up a thick mist of steam. The white fog blocked his sight of Plum, but he knew he had other things to worry about. Vincenzo reloaded and Boon’s blade regrew, along with a leg of exposed muscle. “Come on!” Vincenzo challenged, slamming at his own chest with a fist. “Come on you rancid sack of shit! You wanna die again?!”


    And it charged.


    3


    Cammo jumped for Locine and chopped at her, and she was too slow to dodge, taking the full force of the blade as it sliced down her face and torso. The mantis’ saw blade cut him off from dealing any more damage, making him back off. In that moment, he was finally able to see her disfigured body. Underneath the thick clothing that shielded her from the cold was rippling red, exposed muscle—not one patch of her smooth blue skin covered the vibrant fibers that controlled her every movement. Cammo smiled; this monster was not his wife. Her face grew back, just as perfect as before, smiling with the air of a seductress.


    I’ll deal with you second, he decided, and jumped at the bug. Cammo slammed a stony fist down on the mantis’ head, crushing its hard exoskeleton into small shards! It retaliated with a flurry of lightning-fast slashes while he was still mid-air, but Cammo was too quick, narrowly dodging each attack with the slap of a free hand before planting a downward kick in its new soft spot, crushing what might’ve been the brain; he landed on his feet.


    Locine shoved each of her fingers in her mouth and bit them off one by one… New longer and sharper ones replaced them, turning her once delicate paws into gory knives. With the same smile she had on when they made love, she jumped to the bug''s aid, arms outstretched as if she wanted to hug. Cammo retreated from the offensive and began to deflect her attacks with his wide sword, while the insect took this opportunity to move behind him—its saw blade sliced through the winter air. Cammo noticed just quick enough and turned his neck into stone just as the creature landed the crushing blow, knocking him to the field with an explosive pain. Before he had a chance to recover, they pounced again.


    4


    The Italian was nearly decapitated five times in ten seconds, ducking under the blade and pulling his head out of range with a combination of luck and skill. Vincenzo managed to keep his distance with Heavy Metal—blowing apart the corpse’s knees and ankles for a momentary respite—just long enough for Plum to move in a better position. She held her hands out and summoned another wall in the beast''s face as it ran ahead, smashing through the glass-like spell without even a groan. Vincenzo threw off his thick coat to free up his joints, and loaded two iron shells from the cross of sashes on his chest.


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    “I can’t do enough damage to find the core!” Vincenzo yelled. He fired at Boon’s ankle, dropping it to one knee. “Cover me!”


    He sprinted at the monster. Boon stabbed at him, only to be repelled by yet another barrier of blue, and Vincenzo used the opening to shove his barrels right in its stomach. “Bang!” he said, squeezing Heavy Metal’s twin triggers. The ensuing explosion ripped through Boon in a mess of blood and shredded organs, leaving a hole the size of a plate!


    The pure white arena was now splattered with chunks of gore and blood, and for a moment Vincenzo grinned, knowing that for once it wasn’t his. He slammed his left hand in the meaty cavity and up to his ribs in search of the slug. Boon tumbled to the ground, taking Vincenzo along with him. Then the cavity closed around his arm, trapping him as Boon frantically thrashed around in distress.


    “Calm down you asshole!” Vincenzo screamed. But the beast didn’t listen and rolled over, crushing the teen under his enormous weight. Vincenzo squeezed two shiny shells between his fingers and loaded them awkwardly, yet speedily, in the gun the moment Boon rolled over again. But before he could fire, Boon sent the blade flying towards his neck! Plum countered the attack with another wall just as the young man unleashed destructive pellets on his own arm, severing it, and jumped away. The pain died as quickly as his arm regrew from the wound. “I’m never going to get used to that…'''' he mumbled to himself. He couldn’t find the slug, and that was bad news.


    Plum stood about thirty feet away, trying in vain to keep both Cammo and Vincenzo in her sights. “Are you okay?!” she asked, moving her scarf down with her pointer finger to unmuffle her speech.


    “I’m great!” he replied, loading up. “Keep focused!”


    While Boon stared at him, his eyes began to glow red. The laser, he knew. Vincenzo lowered his stance, ready to dodge—when something surprised him.


    Boon aimed its cannon at Plum, and fired. She let out a shriek in surprise as hot steam erupted just in front of her face where the beam had hit.


    “PLUM!” he screamed, turning.


    Pain. For a moment all he could think of was the scorching heat that blew his left bicep apart, the initial shock stopped a scream from escaping. When he wasn’t shocked, he did scream. His left arm was hanging by a thread, the exposed flesh seared and bubbling. Boon’s eyes flashed again. Vincenzo grit his teeth and jumped into the snow, the red beam flying over his head, kicking up enough steam to power a freight train. Vincenzo let the freezing snow cool his black, gooey, and bleeding stump—the rest of his arm had fallen off during the jump. The initial change in temperatures hurt more than the laser itself, but it quickly began to relieve the burning sensation that plagued the area. Can’t waste time, he thought feverishly. Can’t waste time. Get up. Get up!  Boon aimed its cannon, the eyeballs lining its barrel beginning to glow brilliantly. That was better motivation than his thinking and he rose, still gripping Heavy Metal in his right arm. “Merde,” Vincenzo said. “Doppia merde!” He dove into the smoke behind him. A brilliant flash followed after him, only kicking up more of the thick clouds with a hiss. “Tripla merde! Cazzo!”


    He swatted at the smoke and dropped to one knee, setting Heavy Metal on the ground. He had a moment of peace. A moment to get himself back together. He put his hand on his shoulder and focused on his black stump, letting the mana flow. It wasn’t an exact sensation that he focused on, but a general will that seemed to get the job done. The black turned pink, then white, and finally started to lengthen, until his arm was good as new. He grabbed his gun, shiny from condensation, and went to find Plum.


    5


    Plum swatted away at the steam, hoping to recover sight of the two, but something grabbed her from the depths of the white fog. One hand clasped around her mouth before she could scream.


    “Shh!” Vincenzo whispered. “It''s just me.”


    She turned to see him. “What happened?” she asked. “Are you okay?”


    “I’m fine,” Vincenzo said. He flexed the bare skin that the laser had exposed. “He just tagged my arm a bit…”


    “You can''t fight like that,” she whispered. “This’ll keep you warm.” She removed the scarlet scarf around her neck and wrapped it around his arm. With that taken care of, she needed to know what they were going to do. “What''s the plan?”


    He stood up and smiled at her, but Plum knew that it was false. It was a brave face, but not a real one. “I’m going to keep on killing it until it dies,” he claimed. “Can you back me up?”


    She gave him an enthusiastic nod.


    “Good,” he said. “Stand back.”


    He strode through the steam just as it cleared, meeting an aggravated Boon on the other side. Small traces of smoke rose from the warm blood that melted the snow.


    Vincenzo took aim.


    So did Boon.


    6


    Cammo rolled away from the sharp blades that replaced his wife’s hands. The monsters pursued with an abnormal speed, testing the limits of his own mana-increased reaction time. Jumping backwards up the hill as Locine followed close, he grabbed his leather grip with both hands and chopped at her just like before—and she caught it. She grinned at his surprise; her razor-sharp claws wrapped around his sword. Its blade began to crack between the pressure of her hands, and the mantis took the opportunity to split the sword in half with a downward strike. Cammo cursed and watched the look of smug satisfaction on his wife’s face with disdain, and decided on what to do next. Hand to hand.


    A powerful jab crushed her nose, stunning her as blood burst, and Cammo unleashed a flurry of blows too fast to block. The mantis tried to intervene with a horizontal slash aimed at his jugular, but he ducked just under the dull red saw and bashed his stone-covered shoulder into its thorax, sending it toppling backwards with a force it couldn’t have seen coming. Locine retreated for a moment, healing her broken nose, jaw, and body…


    “Just because my sword’s gone doesn''t mean I can’t rip you apart,” Cammo explained to her. “Now get ready.” His thick leather gloves ripped, exposing rocky knuckles beneath, stained in red.


    The creatures looked on cautiously, slowly circling for another ambush. The mantis was the first to attack. Cammo parried its moves away with loud thuds before jumping to kick it in its left eye, popping it out of its socket like a ball on a string. Locine jumped for him just as fast, like a predator. He retaliated with another jab, crushing her forearm as she blocked. He went on the attack, pulling his arm back for a crushing blow, but she held up one hand in surrender. “Stop! Please!” she cried.


    It was for only half a second that he did, seeing her familiar features curl down in a recognizable terror in her plea for mercy, and he remembered that it was one he’d never want to see again. He saw that face when a ballista bolt the size of his arm penetrated her stomach, and there was death in her eyes. But in that half a second he hesitated, a flash of movement connected with his abdomen. His instincts told him one thing: I’ve lost.


    She smiled again, taunting him with youthful confidence. “Oh, no…” he muttered, keeling over, clutching the wounded area. A malicious giggle escaped her just as the mantis slowly approached, its carapace already healed from the blunt trauma he’d inflicted. Her disgusting body bent down as she readied herself to deliver the final blow…


    But hot pellets of metal blew her face apart, while another destroyed one of the bug''s legs! Cammo looked to see the Italian running to his aid, worry on his face. Vincenzo shoved two more shells, using them to tear apart Locine’s chest and pop the insect''s eyes with a speed that again impressed the emp. “Cammo, you okay?!” Vincenzo asked, kneeling by his side while loading two orange cylinders. Cammo didn’t recognize the shells, but he knew by the way Vincenzo loaded them that he was unsure of them as well. The teen looked down and saw the emp’s stomach, sympathy and rage coloring his expression. Cammo’s entrails were hanging out, mingling with the snow, coloring them a similar shade of red.


    The snow started to fall in large yet delicate clumps. Plum showed up, too, passing her brother, before covering her mouth in shock as her eyes grew wet. The mantis rushed forward with its still destroyed head, just as Boon fired another ray of intense red. Plum turned back in complete rage, deflecting the attack right into the bug, splitting it in half!


    It twitched violently just a couple of feet away. Vincenzo jumped up and shot twice into the snow. It was fire he blew out of his fetish, and it was an intense flame if Cammo ever saw one. Steam exploded out on its impact, hiding the trio from view. He kneeled beside Cammo and leaned close. “Grit your teeth,” he advised, and Cammo nodded. Without warning Vincenzo shoved Cammo’s intestines back inside! Cammo wildly grunted through tight lips as he was picked up and placed on Vincenzo’s back. Plum could only look on in useless worry. The guts stayed inside as Cammo’s stomach pressed against his back, the warm blood smoking as all warmth started to leave his body. “We’re leaving!” Vincenzo said. “Plum, walk on your walls. I can''t carry both of you!” She nodded and jumped up on blue energy and began to run with him.


    They started running down and up hills, trying to gain as much distance as possible, every bump and trip torture for the emp…


    7


    After another thirty seconds of nonstop sprinting, Cammo leaned in close to Vincenzo’s ear, his breathing labored and dull. “I’m going to take a bite out of your neck…” he whispered, sounding weaker than the moon-man would have liked.


    “What?” Vincenzo asked. Vincenzo was too busy trying to think of a plan to really listen, and for a moment he didn’t believe Cammo had said the right thing.


    “This wound…” Cammo grunted. “It''s… too deep…”


    “I’ll figure something out!” Vincenzo argued. “Just be quiet! I got to think! Let me think!


    “Don’t talk back…”


    A ray of death scorched through Vincenzo’s left knee! He screamed, falling forward to try and keep the emp on his back safe. He held onto Cammo’s legs tight as his face scraped against the downwards slope of the hill, until they came to a stop.


    “Are you guys okay?!” Plum asked, falling on the soft blanket of snow besides them.


    “Yeah…” Vincenzo said, trying in vain to push himself up. He glanced back at the sizzling flesh; it hurt like hell and the cold ground barely helped to soothe the pain.


    “Can’t you grow it back?” Plum questioned.


    He felt drained… “Plum,” Vincenzo said. “Run! Get the hell out of here.”


    “What?”


    “It''s over for us…” he said. “I don’t have enough mana to grow my leg back. And Cammo…”


    “The wounds fatal,” Cammo explained weakly. “But don’t run.”


    “What? Why?” Vincenzo said, careful not to move any more than possible.


    “Vincenzo…” Cammo growled, pushing himself up. His intestines fell on the pale ones back, slathering it in slimy blood. “Cover your eyes, Plum!”


    Cammo threw his head down and dug his teeth deep into Vincenzo’s neck! Plum took his final words to heart and shut them tight. Then he pulled back slowly, tearing out a tendon as the teen gasped in silence and pain. Vincenzo let his head fall against the snow while breathing returned to normalcy, confused and shocked. He had just enough to repair his neck. Cammo stood up mechanically and returned up the hill, dragging the ropey intestines behind him…


    8


    Cammo had told Vincenzo about the act in passing. The half-god: where mana rules the flesh. He wondered what he would turn into as human neck meat hit his stomach. Cammo knew a lot of things, but not much about it. All he knew was the basic and most important rule: give it all. The process was one of sacrifice. To obtain the power he needed, to destroy the last obstacle in his daughter’s way, he needed to lose everything. The soul—the source of mana, of spells, of himself—was the trade. And with his soul, his life. The natural body, born out of wombs and not of mud, couldn’t handle the power. After mere moments of existing in a new transcendent form, his body would combust. Moments are all I need, he thought, shambling ahead through the falling storm. He let go of his intestines which hung low between his legs, and saw them: the abominations. They were rushing at him, ignoring the thick snow through bounding jumps. They’d be on him in half a minute, ripping him to shreds as if he were a common man—not a wizard. I’ll be more than that, he thought, I promise you. The other rule was such: he had to have resolve. One moment of indecisiveness and it’d all be for naught. His soul would implode and so would his body, and they’d trample over him to kill Vincenzo and kidnap Plum. He started laughing, bleeding from his mouth. It was kind of funny to him. He’d talked the moon-man out of suicide only to commit the act himself just weeks after.


    He had about ten seconds left to tear his own soul apart. A soul that could never ascend to the next plane of existence some called heaven, some called hell, and some didn’t believe in at all. Cammo was skeptical of all that, as he was with religion as a whole, but he did have one regret: he wished he could’ve seen Locine one last time. Not the rancid corpse leaping at him with in murderous glee… but the real one.


    At the very last second—as the slug using Locine, the mantis, and Boon came within five feet—he accepted the deal. He felt true power.


    9


    Vincenzo panted hard before pushing up to a sitting position. “What the fuck was that?” Vincenzo said, before turning back to the girl. Her eyes were still closed. “Plum, you can open your eyes now.” Then a chill ran up his spine; not from the cold (even though he was severely underdressed), but from a deep feeling of unease straight from his gut… Even worse, he recognized the sensation—it was the same way he felt when he met the ghost. It was the power that frightened him. And it was close. “Plum,” he muttered, trying to sit up straight to meet her anxious gaze. “Plum, answer me.”


    “Y-yes?” she answered. She looked just as lost as him; just as scared. “What now?”


    “What now?” he repeated, thinking fast. The pit in his stomach only grew, and it was growing exponentially. He couldn’t move. But Plum could. “I’ll be fine, Plum. Can you believe me? Can you trust me?”


    “Can I trust you?” It seemed like she was debating it, but in the end she nodded. “I think…”


    “Then run,” Vincenzo said. “Run aw—”


    Something landed just behind him, and he felt seconds away from death. Plum’s face twisted in fear at the sight of whatever was behind him. He had begun to sweat, his heart beating so fast he was scared it’d been, and his breathing got fast and hard. But he had to turn. He couldn’t just freeze again, especially not with Plum there—she’d already frozen. So, the moon-man grabbed Heavy Metal and turned his head, and saw it:


    Cammo? he thought, before realizing what exactly he was staring at. No, not anymore. Something resembling the father and husband stood tall but without pride. The mask that Cammo had worn into battle seemed to meld into his skin as patches of his flesh poked out from underneath, magma flowed through the cracks in his dull crimson skin, and even his height seemed greater. His clothes burned off his form, his own veins seemed to burst, and thick clouds of steam rose all around his smoldering body. The dark green light emanating from him used to be only a few inches thick, but now… now it extended to almost a foot. It’s exponential, Vincenzo remembered Cammo saying. And if that’s right, then… The thought, like reality, scared him. The Glow surged outwards like a fire, seeming palpable. But its most defining feature were the hints of black around the first layer, reaching to the outer edges of its own energy like an eldritch parasite. In his left hand, he gripped the half-burnt head of Locine; her eyes were half-open and mouth agape. In the right was Boon’s; his was burned beyond recognition. Hanging from his mouth was the mantis’s esophagus still connected to its bulbous head. And Cammo’s eyes were wide and without the slightest hint of awareness. Cammo is dead.


    Instinct aimed the shotgun as Plum didn''t object, and Vincenzo squeezed the triggers—but nothing happened. Locine’s, Boon’s, and the mantis’ head fell to the snow. Cammo held in his volcanic hands two pale arms, still pouring blood, that roasted at his touch, Heavy Metal stuck in their death grip. Vincenzo looked down to check his own, only to find them missing at the bicep. Cammo… Cammo had been so fast in his attack that Vincenzo himself was blind to it until moments after. Did I blink? he asked himself. No way. I don’t blink shooting. My eyes were wide open.


    “Shit…” he muttered. His stumps were painting white red as he watched in a bewilderment, not for a second believing what had happened. “This is ridiculous.”


    “Don’t!” Plum said. “Don’t!”


    Cammo slowly raised his head to lock eyes with his daughter. Her brief bravery disappeared when their eyes met.


    Vincenzo flew over the hill and landed near the burnt and mutilated corpses of the three attackers. I’ve been thrown, he knew, still amazed. The skin on his shoulders was burnt black from where he’d been grabbed, heavy snowflakes piling on his broken and bloody body. Plum… he remembered, turning towards the hill. The only limb whole was his right leg, and he was out of mana to repair the others. Heavy Metal was nowhere in reach—if he had arms to even reach for that matter. And he was bleeding into the snow. He was powerless. “Plum, don''t die,” he muttered in vain. His tired eyes watched their location, unmoving. “Plum…”


    Blood exploded from just beyond the mound of snow into a mist. “No…” he whispered. Something began to climb over the hill. He shut his eyes in acceptance and turned back to the sky, letting the cool white substance cover his body. The snow crunched under whatever emerged, finally reaching him.


    “Vincenzo?” a small, dead voice called.


    He opened his eyes to see Plum standing over him, a fine layer of blood covering her face and body, only thinning in the back. The apathetic tone of her voice stopped him from smiling in relief. “Yes?” he said, examining the tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. They carved rivers through the blood, thinning it as they rolled down her cheeks, along the bottom of her jaw, and the point of her chin. “Yes, Plum?”


    She closed her eyes and lowered her head, trying in vain to hide the tortured expression on her face. She answered him in half a sob and half a whisper: “I want to leave…”


    The angle of her head meant the tears were falling from her nose, and they fell right on his face, dissolving the snow as they stained his white skin red. But they were warm. And as he’d come to realize, warmth meant life. Cammo was dead, but he had cleared the way to Slogine as he did. Plum was alive. Vincenzo was alive. And they could still live.


    “Yeah,” he agreed, still bleeding on the snow. “Me too, Plum. Me too.”