It wasn’t a very good shot. Randel could barely hold his rifle, let alone aim. No, it really wasn’t a good shot … but it was enough. He hit the demon’s right forearm, severing it just below the elbow, making her pale white flesh vanish—except for the shackled hand on the other side of the portal that remained strangely unaffected. Nevertheless, the demon’s upper arm was free and she swept it over Randel’s head, spraying black blood across the room. The robots behind him ceased firing.

Randel wobbled on his knees, running out of breath, running out of … everything. He struggled to keep his attention on the demon above him. Her severed arm regrew in the blink of an eye, black flesh and white skin sprouting from nowhere. Her new arm had long fingers ending in sharp claws, and she swept those claws at her left arm, cutting it off just to regrow it a moment later. With her arms free, she bent down and severed both of her legs too. They grew back as she drifted to the ground, and so she landed on her new feet.

A blast of wind exploded from below the demon and Randel was able to breathe again. The red lights in the room shattered. Randel’s veins and the hole in the wall still emitted some light, but the space around the demon was unnaturally dark. Shrouded. Randel couldn’t see the demon even though she was standing right in front of him. Her mask fell to the floor next to his head, followed by the tube that had been stuck to the demon’s chest. Randel felt another blast, a ripple in the fabric of the Waking World, then everything went still.

The rifle in Randel’s hands fell apart. Disintegrated, turned into flowing black liquid that then flowed up to where the demon presumably stood. Only that suction tendril in his right arm remained. Randel sluggishly raised his left hand and ripped the tendril out with it. The angel blood stopped the bleeding. He blinked once, twice. His thoughts came sluggishly. The pain felt distant. The burning in his veins lessened, and he stopped bleeding orange, but his legs—

Randel toppled forward, gasping, catching himself with his hands so that his head didn’t hit the ground. He realized it, now. He was able to move his body now! The collar blocked it no longer. He was able to move his arms! His legs, however, not so much. Haha. He twisted around, looking back at the bloody mush that had once been his right leg. It looked as if the flesh had exploded from the inside out. Hahaha! He was able to move, except he wasn’t. His one remaining leg had been blasted apart. Every little piece that hadn’t been shielded by Soul Eater was pulped. How lucky that Soul Eater had covered his ass! Hahaha!

Randel bent forward and threw up under himself. His chest convulsed beyond control as he retched up orange blood. Really, he seemed to have way too much of that stuff in him. His arms trembled and would have given out if something hadn’t grabbed the back of his neck and hauled him upward. Randel gurgled, almost passing out from the sudden motion, but by the time he caught on to what happened, he was already let go. He floated weightlessly, head throbbing. He blinked once, twice. The darkness around the demon had receded, but Randel almost wished it hadn’t.

Her hair had grown out, and it was brilliant red—reaching down to her waist, smooth, silky, gorgeous. That was about the only attractive feature of the demon. She watched Randel’s wandering gaze with those eerie gray eyes, grinning. It was a very wide grin, her leathery lips almost reaching her ears, showing off a mouth – a maw, rather – full of sharp, needle-like teeth. Randel’s eyes traveled down her body, taking in her ruined chest. Her left breast was missing and there was a gaping hole in its place, wide and deep, oozing black blood onto her pale white skin. The black blood ran freely over her lithe body, pooling at her feet, but she didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Della,” said the demon, her otherworldly voice carrying an echo. “My name is Della. What is yours, little shade?”

“You know what I am?”

“I’m in a good mood today,” said Della, “so I’ll give you one last chance to answer. What is your name?”

Randel licked his lips nervously, tasting blood. His own blood.

“Randel, I suppose.”

“Good, Randel. Good. Now tell me, what is this thing attached to you? A thing of my blood, and yet it does not obey to me.”

Randel glanced at Soul Eater on his shoulders, its hole-ridden shape shielding his back still. He withdrew the material and gathered it around his chest – around his heart – to wear it like armor.

“It’s a prototype for some twisted experiment,” Randel replied. “I am bound to it, and it is bound to this body.”

“Ah,” sighed Della knowingly. “Poor little shade. No more body-swapping, then?”

“No more,” Randel agreed, then risked a glance at the hole in the wall. “We should hurry. The Pheilett will try to—”

He gasped in pain as a sudden blow squashed him against the wall beside the hole, only Soul Eater keeping his ribs intact.

“No one,” hissed the demon, “no one tells me what I should do.”

Her face was contorted in fury as she stalked closer. Randel grunted, struggling to speak, the pressure pinning him to the wall proving to be too much.

“I’m finally free,” continued the demon, “so I’ll do as I please. I take my time talking if I want to. I toy with your body if I want to. I take your pitiful existence as my own if I want to.”

“You’re free because of me,” Randel managed to gasp.

Della laughed sharply, and the sound of it was almost enough to make Randel’s ears bleed again.

“You freed me,” said the demon, “because I pulled you here. You freed me because I am your only chance to escape. You freed me because only I can shield you from the Pheilett. So expect no gratitude from me, battered little shade, because you’re just as selfish as I am.”

“I can—I can still help you.”

“Not like this, no. Your body has expired. How do you even intend to walk, let alone help me?”

“Please—”

“Shh,” said the demon. “The less you speak, the better your chances are with me, broken little shade. You see, I can help you. Oh, yes. You deserve a reward for your troubles.”

Della winked at Randel as she sauntered to him. She stopped in front of him and bent down—only to tear both of her legs cleanly off. She straightened back up, floating in the air, turning her severed legs around as black blood oozed from them. She licked her dry lips in anticipation, her tongue long and sharp and black as her blood. Randel didn’t move, didn’t even dare to breathe as the demon locked gazes with him. She floated even closer, pressing her chest against his, breathing down his neck … and pushing her severed legs into the remnants of his own legs.

Randel was expecting pain, and quite predictably, he got it. It was like merging with Soul Eater once again, veins burning, except this time he was too spent to cry out. His minds were already hazy, his throat raw and bleeding, and besides, he couldn’t even take a deep enough breath to scream. And so he only whimpered, his minds retreating, hiding, up until he felt another presence touch him. A soothing presence. A welcome presence.

“There you go,” said Della, stepping back on her newly regrown legs. “Better than ever before.”

She lowered Randel to the ground until he stood on his own two feet. He was feeling the cool floor under his soles! He wiggled his toes. They felt like his toes until he looked down at them. The legs he saw were slender and feminine, the skin over them unnaturally white. Paler than his own skin, which was quite an achievement. His toes were beautiful, though the nails on them looked quite sharp, almost claw-like. And he felt absolutely amazing! His new limbs were bursting with energy and this affected his overall mood as well. His body wasn’t completely healed, he knew, but he no longer stood on the verge of death. He smiled, and sighed in relief, and looked up at Della. His gorgeous savior. His heart fluttered anxiously as She smiled back at him. It was almost too much.

“How does it feel?” asked Della. “How do you feel?”

“Like a whole new person,” Randel breathed. “Thank you.”

“But of course,” said Della, graceful and kind. “Serve me well, Randel, and I’ll be sure to reward you further.”

Randel’s heart was bursting with joy upon hearing Her words—upon hearing his name leave Her beautiful lips. Was this what they called love at first sight? He had to convey his feelings somehow. He sank to one knee and bowed his head for Her. She hummed happily, then reached down and touched his cheek, beckoning him, urging him to get up. He sprang to his feet readily, his new limbs working as if he had always owned them. An incredible gift from his Della; a piece of Herself, now forever his.

“Too bad we have other pressing matters,” sighed Della. “No more time to dally. Let’s take care of this mess, shall we?”

She looked through the hole in the wall, and so did Randel. The world outside looked surreal. Robots had flooded the corridor, weapons raised, intending to charge into the room—except everything was in slow motion. Randel suddenly realized how much the fabric of the Waking World had thinned around him; Della had moved the two of them almost completely into the Astral Plane. Dangerous, for neither of their corporeal bodies would be able to withstand the other plane—but then, the danger was why Randel loved Della so much. She was so bold, so powerful.

She snapped Her fingers and the robots burst apart, their frames breaking down into the individual components as if someone decided to dismantle them on the fly. None of the components flew in Della’s direction though, and Randel had wisely chosen to stand behind Her. Time sped up outside or perhaps it slowed down inside—anyway, Della had already put the two of them back into the Waking World.

Then the air rippled around Her and a shockwave traveled down the corridor, sweeping up dust.

“Microscopic drones,” explained Della. “Stay near me, Randel, or else they’ll get into your body and kill you.”

“Understood,” Randel enthused. Della stepped over the destroyed robots and Randel followed. He briefly wondered where they were going, but then he decided that he didn’t really care. He’d happily follow Della to the edge of the universe, even.

There were closed doors and sealed corridors all around them, but they meant nothing to Della. She displaced any such obstacle with a single glance, twisting and churning the fabric of reality as She saw fit. Nothing could stop Her. Nothing.

“Here,” said Della, and the floor vanished from under them. They fell into a room full of water, except all that water condensed in Della’s hand without ever touching Randel’s skin, and then they fell further down, through another hole in the floor. Della released the water down there, blasting something away that Randel didn’t even have time to notice. The floor under them turned into a slide and they skidded down on it, pristine white rooms flashing by until they arrived at one that was full of naked Pheilett.

The looks on their faces were sublime. Green, bald heads with a third eye in place of a nose, their skin colors ranging from pale green to dark gray. Oh, how the tables had turned! Some of them tried to leave the room in a panic, some of them stood still and gaped as Della and Randel fell on top of them. Della landed amid the crowd in the room’s entrance while Randel landed at the back of the room, planting both of his feet into a Pheilett man’s back. His flying kick sent the man tumbling to the ground and the despicable creature screamed in pure terror as he scrambled away on all fours. There was a terminal in the corner where the Pheilett were warping away. Randel growled at the sight, shapeshifting Soul Eater to run down his arms and form a pair of blades to—

“There’s no need for that, dear.”

Della’s beautiful voice got Randel to stop short. The green-skinned aliens jumped into the portal terminal one by one, vanishing from sight. Even the man Randel had kicked was able to get up and warp away—and all Randel could do was watch!

“Now, now, Randel dear, no need to be so upset. We will have our revenge, mark my words. But these here were nothing. Mere morsels. Why bother killing a few of them, when you could end all of them soon?”

Della’s voice. Soothing, calming, reasoning. She was right, of course. Petty vengeance was beneath Randel. He was living for Della’s wishes now. He turned to face Her—and he gasped in shock. There were Pheilett behind Her, kneeling, sitting, standing around Her, stroking Her skin and looking at Her face in awe. Randel gulped, swallowing his jealousy. Hostages. Those Pheilett were just hostages, so now the rest of the Pheilett had to think twice before trying to stop Della. She was not only gorgeous but cunning too.

“What next?” Randel asked.

“This way,” said Della, walking out of the room. Randel followed the group of Pheilett from behind, staring daggers at their backs.

They didn’t get far. After a brief walk down a nondescript corridor they reached an intersection and found robots were waiting for them in all directions—they were coming up from behind too.

Della destroyed the robots up ahead with a snap of Her fingers, but they succeeded in firing the devices they carried just before they fell apart. A wide tear was ripped into the fabric of the Waking World, reaching from floor to ceiling, opening a portal into another planet. The robots in the other three directions were doing the same too, surrounding them with portals. Randel felt a sudden chill from behind him; the planet on the other side was a frozen wasteland, but that wasn’t the worst part of it. The crackling cannon pointed at his back was.

Without thinking he threw himself to the ground, which saved his life as the cannon fired a moment later. The bone-deep chill was gone, replaced by the scorching heat of a concentrated beam of light. Della’s hostages were gone. One moment they stood all around her, caught in the crossfire, and then only ashes remained. The Pheilett had just sacrificed their own without hesitation. Randel groaned, spreading Soul Eater further along his back, shielding himself while crawling away. What was Della doing? Would She be alright? An angry scream reverberated across the fabric of reality, and the tear to the frozen wasteland collapsed. A moment of reprieve—and then a fresh wave of robots fired their devices and reopened the portals. The cannon on the other side was already winding up but the floor under Randel turned liquid and he fell.

A tangle of brilliant red hair caught his eyes, and then She caught him, plunging into the water below. They glided through the water with barely any resistance. A bubble of air around Randel’s head allowed him to breathe. Della was holding him tight, holding him close. All was right. They were going to escape together. They were going to—

A tear opened in the water and they fell through. High, very high up, falling toward a planet. It had no ground to speak of, just a blanket of brownish gas swirling in the vast expanse of its surface. A gas giant. Randel was in space, right next to a satellite, but Della tugged on him hard and they flew back through the rift right away. Randel shivered in spite of Her warm embrace. This battle was completely out of his league.

They flew through multiple rooms of the moon facility until they seemed to have escaped the portal devices. All Randel could do was cling to Della and try to keep up. Walls melted, space shortened, and the Waking World shuddered—nothing could stop a demon. Della was searching for something. She wasn’t omniscient, Randel realized, but She had senses beyond his own. She could only be at one place at a time, but She was fast. She was getting closer to Her prey.

She dropped Randel when they found another chamber full of Pheilett, a warehouse of sorts with armed guards. She laughed when a pair of guards raised their weapons at Her, a thrilled sort of laugh carrying challenge. She flashed forward, appearing behind their backs and touching them just as the robots arrived, devices raised. A trap. Danger. Randel’s minds spun furiously, trying to predict what was going to happen, how to protect Della. He was out of his depths here, but that didn’t mean he was completely useless. His body could serve as a shield. When the robots fired their devices he was already running toward the closest group, throwing himself between them and Della. He didn’t make it; the floor disappeared from under his feet.

Water. Cold, agonizingly cold water. Randel gasped for air as it threw him upward, pouring out of the rift, then fell back into the water as the gravity shifted. Portals, portals everywhere, and Randel was getting sick of them. This time the robots had opened them above and below too, to completely surround Della and prevent Her from escaping. Randel tossed and turned in the churning water, trying to figure out which way was up, his minds searching desperately for a solution. Della needed his help, he felt it.

This was the moment Randel lived for.

Della was an apex predator, the most awesome entity in the universe. Yet even She could be brought low with numbers and trickery. The Pheilett obviously had the means to do so; that was how She had been caught in the first place. But how? How had those disgusting green aliens done it? There was nothing that could contain Her, because She was able to alter the very fabric of reality around her. So … what about something that was not around Her? Something that, for instance, existed on the other side of a portal.

The portal above Randel suddenly closed.

The currents sucked him deeper under the water and darkness fell upon him, an awful pressure squeezing him tight. Someone had closed the rift and Randel was stuck on the wrong side of it! He flailed around in panic, a futile gesture for there was nothing he could hold onto. Nothing that could save him here. No. This couldn’t be happening—he had to save Della! The pressure was too much. The last of his air escaped. Then there was light and he was flung back into the chamber.

Luck. The robots had reopened the rift and the surging water washed Randel out. He landed with a heavy thud and rolled to his feet, his new legs tireless. There were robots in front of him and solid ground beneath his feet. His purpose was set and he wouldn’t fail this time. He charged forward while transforming Soul Eater, growing four extra arms and screaming in fury. Distract. He had to distract the robots to buy Della time.

He barreled into the machines and though he wasn’t a particularly heavy person, his four arms made quick work on them. He punched and smashed them with no regard for his own safety, desperate to give Della an opening. She closed the rifts once more, and this time Randel made sure that at least some of the robots were unable to reopen them. The machines turned on him, a dozen against one, and Randel weathered their blows—until they all melted into metallic puddles. Della stood behind them, breathing hard, Her gorgeous red hair floating around Her like a halo.

“Good job,” said Della, straightening up and regaining Her composure. “I’m very pleased with you, Randel.”

Randel felt too elated to form words. He smiled back at Her, wishing that this moment would never end. But it did, and quite quickly too. Della sauntered over to the next room with two Pheilett men at Her side. The security guards She had touched. No way! They had somehow survived the previous chaos and were helping Her now. Randel followed them, grinding his teeth in frustration.

He felt awful. The cold water clung to his skin and he was chilled to the bones. Orange veins ran all over his body. He retracted Soul Eater to ease off a bit, gathering it around his waist like a skirt. A touch of modesty, even if Della didn’t seem to mind either way.

An ivory necklace swung free on Randel’s chest now that Soul Eater wasn’t covering it, and he had half a mind to rip it off and toss the useless thing away—but I frowned when I grabbed it. Something wasn’t right. Randel didn’t consider himself to be overly sentimental, so … why? Why was he doing this? What was he doing, anyway? Something felt off. Perhaps it was how Della had said his name. Was it even his name that She had said?

The next chamber had more Pheilett in it. Security guards, forming a desperate last stand in front of a large door. No robots this time, but the guards had small portals attached to their forearms. Much like how Devi used her portals to shield herself. Randel blinked in surprise. Where did that thought come from? He rubbed at his temples, trying to focus. It cost him. Because of his moment of distraction, he reacted too late when the Pheilett man on Della’s side – the one who was supposedly on Her side – drew a long knife with glowing edges and rammed it through Her neck.

“No!” Randel cried out as Della stumbled backward. He caught Her as She fell, but he was unable to do much else. The traitor who had stabbed Her broke into a run, heading straight toward the security guards. Della’s other hostage shook himself out of his stupor and scrambled away too. Randel froze in horror as black blood oozed from Della’s neck, as the two Pheilett ran away, as they left Della and Randel wide open in the middle of the room, without any cover.

The security guards didn’t hesitate. They raised their guns and opened fire—not at Della, but at the running hostages. There were no visible bullets. The two Pheilett men barely managed to take a couple of steps before their skin bubbled over, and then their bodies exploded from the inside out. Randel flinched as he got showered in gore. The guards didn’t stop there, however; they trained their guns at Randel next. This was it. The end. Quick and unceremonious. Time seemed to slow down in his final moments.

Della opened her eyes.

“Annoying maggots,” sighed Della as she removed the knife from her neck. The guards, moving ever so slowly, hadn’t fired yet. “They are too clever by half. They think they know my tricks, but I’ve only just begun. Let go of me, Randel, I can stand on my own.”

“Ah,” Randel gasped, releasing Her shoulders quickly. “My deepest apologies, Della. I didn’t realize this was your plot.”

“You did well, Randel. Keep it up.”

Randel felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips and bowed low before Della. When he straightened back up, he and Della were standing a dozen strides to the left, out of the line of fire. Time sped back up then, and Randel heard the wall behind them explode. Della let out an amused chuckle, then folded the space between Herself and the guards into nothing and stepped right behind them. It was a massacre after that, her sharp claws slicing through their bodies as if they were made of paper. Randel stood still, content to just watch Her.

She had told him that he did well. He was doing well! Randel was doing well. His name was … Randel? He was born with that name. Or was he? Was he born at all? He had always existed. Not as Randel, perhaps, but he always existed. People called him Randel now, however. Randel. The Mad Painter. These were the names that defined him as a whole.

But was I really whole? Randel was a deeply conflicted person. There were times that his actions, her actions, my actions didn’t quite make sense. Della had praised Randel, and it made him elated. He smiled and bowed, but was it really something that I would have done? Would I really fall in love so easily? I glanced down at my necklace. Oh, well. Perhaps I would. But this recent turn of events left Lee wondering too. Together, they were called Randel—but he had his own name too. Lee. A silly mortal name that Roland had given him. Tamie and Suit and Wolf had their own names too.

Why did names matter, anyway? It was a way to define one’s self. The demon used the definition of Randel to influence and control him. The problem with it was that they didn’t really know what they were, did they? They hadn’t made up their minds yet. They had made plenty of progress recently, and they could work together in a pinch, but they were still trying to figure out how to function properly. How to live their life. And so, even if Randel was in love with Della, I couldn’t say that I was. Lee sure as hell wasn’t either. Wolf reckoned that love was just a useless emotion that mortals pursued in their free time. Suit disagreed, but she didn’t love the demon either. Tamie, however, absolutely adored Della. Well, not really. She was just being sarcastic again.

That settled the question. No part of Randel was in love with Della. He blinked, looking the demon over once more—really looking at her. Seeing her pale skin drenched in all sorts of bodily fluids, some of it from the hole in her chest, some of it from the security guards. Seeing the wide maw full of sharp teeth and the long, sinuous tongue that darted out to lick the remnants of an organ – a guard’s torn-out heart – off her palm. Seeing the brilliant red hair that billowed behind her as if underwater. Her dull grey eyes had gone wild with bloodlust and joy. I saw all of these things and a question sprang to my mind.

“What are we doing here?”

Della looked up sharply. She dropped her bloody hands and narrowed her eyes. The air filled with tension.

“It’s not your place to question me, Randel.”

“S-Sorry,” Randel sputtered right away, averting his eyes. He felt ashamed. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Randel, Randel, Randel,” drawled the demon, coming closer. “I see it now; you’re thinking too small! You believe that we need to escape to survive. You don’t understand, do you? There’s no need to run away. No need, if there is no one left to run from.”

Randel gulped, taking a step back. He felt suddenly very, very small. Even if it wasn’t directed at him, the menace oozing out of Della was too much.

“Any other concerns?” asked Della sweetly.

“None,” Randel said, looking at his feet.

“Good,” said Della. “Let us settle some scores, then. Let us settle all of them.”

She turned Her back to him and sauntered away, expecting him to follow. Interesting. I reckoned that demons were about just as arrogant as shades. Lots of pride and confidence and very little self-preservation. Was it their long lives that made them delusional? Della was out of her mind if she believed that she could defy the Pheilett indefinitely. Was vengeance really so important to her? I’ve already made it this far and I wasn’t very keen on dying now. Neither for the demon’s cause nor for anyone else’s.

Della waved a hand at the heavy gate that the security guards had been defending, and it promptly flung open. Randel followed Her through obediently, twisting his neck this way and that to admire the enormous warehouse they stepped into. Clean and white like the rest of the facility, but with towering shelves full of machines. A server park, he realized. Della was going to destroy the servers that made the Game of Ascension possible! Thousands of Players would be—ah, but perhaps Randel was jumping to conclusions. Della wasn’t dismantling any of the machines.

She folded the space in half and a single step took Randel down a row of computers. They turned around a corner, whirring vents and choking heat all around them, and Della bent the space again. Randel passed between thousands of machines in two steps, feeling disorientated. He had gotten used to teleporting around, changing his surroundings in an instant, but this method of travel was not as immediate and somehow that made it even worse. It felt wrong to do this in the Waking World, which left him wondering whether any of this was real. But it had to be, for it was wilder than anything he had ever dreamed up.

Della paid no attention to Randel’s confusion. She ignored the rows of machines too. Perhaps She didn’t care about them, or perhaps She didn’t know what they were for. No, that last thought was blasphemous. Randel shouldn’t have assumed such things.

Della rumpled the fabric of the Waking World however she pleased and they crossed the entire server park within seconds. They stopped where the rows ended, standing on a smooth and mostly empty platform. Up ahead on either side of the room, the open end of two enormous tunnels stood facing each other. The insides of those tunnels were plated and vibrating, their functions obscure but their appearance reminding Randel of a particle accelerator.

It wasn’t the tunnels that held Della’s attention, however. In the space between the tunnels floated a head-sized crimson orb above a high dais. It was a glowing gemstone, not unlike the gemstone that fueled Soul Eater but bigger and redder. A set of ceramic plates were attached to its sides with short wires sticking out of it. Huh. Because of the Inspector’s memories, Randel actually knew what this strange gemstone was: a mindstone. With it, Della would be able to access the mental communication network of the Inspectors. She would be able to worm her way into everyone’s head within this facility, touching them and taking them all as her puppets.

The server park went suddenly utterly quiet as the entire Waking World held its breath in anticipation. Della let out a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a moan, her eyes fixed on the mindstone. She didn’t have to say anything; Randel knew what to do right away. He felt her wish, her command. The Pheilett would try to capture her while she was distracted with the stone, and Randel’s job was to disrupt their attempts and protect Della with his life if necessary. His heart fluttered happily at the thought of this important task.

My heart, on the other hand, was about to get a heart-attack from all this stress.

I had never really been good at following commands, and it also wasn’t very often that I gave my life for someone else. I was a bit lacking in that noble and honorable department, I knew. What else did I know? That this particle accelerator tunnel thing wasn’t usually here. Suit remembered that this wasn’t where mindstones were stored—this was a setup. What else did I know? That every Pheilett machinery had a manual fallback option for controlling it. Off to the side, there was a big control panel full of buttons and switches and small screens. Hard to miss, really. As the demon approached the mindstone, I approached the control panel. There was a big red button flashing in the middle. The demon touched the mindstone. I touched the button.

I had to give it to the Inspectors, they knew how to play their games with style. The demon’s body was obliterated in a flash as a brilliant beam of light hit her, bright as the sun, flowing from one half of the tunnel to the other. I staggered back, wincing, pressing my hands to my ears to block out some of the deafening static noise. A warning blinked on the control panel, and Suit interpreted it as a radiation alarm. I gulped, backing off further. Yeah, perhaps I hadn’t thought this all the way through; the Inspectors were about to kill two birds with one stone here. They just made it so that it was one of those birds who threw the stone in the first place.

The current of light kept going and I kept backing up, thinking furiously. If I was going to die from radiation there was nothing I could do anyway, but if I happened to live on, I still had to escape somehow. The demon was dead, so I would need to—

“Randel!”

Lee froze, only now realizing how awfully thin the fabric of the Waking World was.

“Stop this!”

Tamie’s eyes watered as she looked into the light, seeing the outline of a skeleton in there. A skeleton and a swirl of billowing red hair.

“RANDEL!”

The name echoed loudly and shook his very core, but Wolf shook his head in turn. He had to get away.

“Help me, Randel!”

“No,” Suit groaned, then turned around and ran. Through the server farm. Away. It didn’t matter where. As far as possible. She could feel a terrible pull from behind her.

“Traitor!” screeched the demon. Then there was an enormous boom, the sound of an explosion, and a shockwave hit me from behind and tossed me against the selves. I got to my feet, onto my new demonic feet, and ran on—blinded by fear, an inhuman shriek ringing in my ears as I lost myself in the maze of machines.

“You’ll pay for this, you wretched little shade,” came the demon’s promise, followed by another explosion. The entire row of machines on my left burst into pieces and I scrambled to the right to avoid the falling wreckage. I turned a corner just in time, the pathway I had been running on blowing up a moment later. I turned yet another corner when I felt the fabric of reality churn and twist up ahead and then turned once more, keeping away from the exploding computers.

I had really done it this time, hadn’t I? Now I needed to survive two godlike opponents instead of one. A laugh bubbled up from the back of my throat. Finally, a worthy challenge! It was getting too easy anyway. I laughed as I ran on.

There wasn’t much else I could do.