Kano spun around and froze. Ren’s copy of her had vanished, leaving her an amorphous mass of multicolored flesh once more. A mass that had enveloped Fifty-Seven, flowing along his body as it drew him in. His legs had already vanished while his arms flailed around, trying to grab hold of something to pull himself free but finding only empty space.

Kano ran over, and stopping just short of touching Ren, grabbed Fifty-Seven’s wrists and pulled. The little ghoul’s body didn’t budge in the slightest. She considered pulling harder, but at this point she was more likely to break him than free him. Seeing Nove standing beside her, hesitating, she said, “Hold him.”

Once Nove had him securely in her grasp, she let go. Hopefully she could stop him from getting pulled further in while she tried to talk some sense into Ren.

“Ren?” Kano shouted. “Can you hear me?”

There was no response, not that Ren had a mouth to respond with. Could she even hear Kano like this? Clearly something had gone wrong with her body, perhaps due to whatever An had done. But there was no time to figure out what.

Kano didn’t fancy her chances if she touched Ren directly. She was likely to end up stuck just like Fifty-Seven was. Or worse. No, what she needed was some way to get Ren off him.

She ran out of the room and grabbed the nearest Red Company soldier by his arm. “I need a knife.”

“What?” he replied, dazed.

“A knife. Bring me one. Until then, give me your gun.” To get her point across, Kano put her fist through the wall beside his head, then let him go. He handed his pistol over and ran off, hopefully to do as he was told.

Kano hurried back to the children’s room and fired her newly acquired weapon at Ren, away from Nove and Fifty-Seven. The bullet went straight through Ren’s body, creating a long, narrow cavity. Moving with great speed, the flesh around it contorted and contracted, and the wound vanished. Kano hadn’t thought it would have much effect, but it did even less than she expected. As it was, the gun wasn’t even useful as a distraction.

Was there anything that would distract Ren? Unlikely. It was hard to say if she even had a mind capable of being distracted right now. Kano couldn’t imagine this would have happened if Ren were still conscious. Had she reverted back to how she was when Kano had first met her? With some vestige of intelligence that was unrelated to her true character?

From what Ren had said, it seemed like it was what happened when her body was given only a small amount of the organisms necessary to keep her alive. Did this mean she wasn’t able to generate them in sufficient numbers within her body? Or was she losing the ability to create them altogether? That would mean her almost inevitable death, but seeing what was happening right now, that might be the best outcome they could hope for.

Nove was still holding Fifty-Seven steady, and no more of him had ended up enveloped by Ren, but she also wasn’t making any progress pulling him out. At least he’d stopped screaming. The little ghoul still looked terrified, but he was containing himself to some faint whimpering.

Or maybe he was just dying. It was hard to say what being inside Ren’s body was actually doing to him. Hadn’t she said something about things merging to become parts of her? Definitely didn’t sound like something you wanted to be in contact with for long, if at all.

When the soldier finally came back with a knife, Kano tore it from his hands and went to work. She sawed through the soft clinging matter of Ren’s body approximately around where Fifty-Seven’s legs should be. Trying to keep a relatively wide berth around where his limbs were, Kano nonetheless found herself nicking solid flesh more than once.

It was hard work, but she finally cut one of his legs free, which she pulled clear and then got to work on freeing the other. By the time she was done, Ren’s body was unblemished, like nothing had happened. The moment Fifty-Seven’s legs were free and Nove let him go, he fled the room. Kano could hardly blame him. At least it was safe to say his legs still worked.

“What happened?” Nove asked, having moved to a safe distance from Ren, who still showed no signs of awareness. “Why did she try to eat him like that?”

“I don’t think she did it on purpose. I think her mind is just gone.”

“Gone? How can that be?”

“It’s complicated, but it’s something to do with the stuff that keeps her alive. I think she’s dying.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

Kano shook her head. They could blame An for Ren’s current condition, but that wouldn’t help them any. There probably wasn’t anything the necromancers could do at this point.

Maybe if they had more time and inclination, but they were busy with their own work, and Ren wasn’t likely to survive long at this point. Either way, there was certainly nothing Kano could do. “I think all that’s left is to let her die.”

“You’re just giving up on her? I know she came close to eating Fifty-Seven, but you said that was an accident. Aren’t you at least going to try?”

“Try what? And it’s nothing to do with that, there’s just nothing I can do to help her.”

“That’s not true,” Nove said emphatically. “You can save her like you did me. Or try to.”

“What’re you talking about?” She vaguely remembered Nove saying something about how she’d saved her, but she had no memory of such an event. Nor any idea of how it applied to their current situation. Ren didn’t need freeing from some cell. If anything, that was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

“I don’t know how you did it, but I think you gave me a piece of yourself, of your soul. I’m certain that’s the only reason I have any kind of mind at all, beyond that of a simple animal. I realize it’s a lot to ask from you, and if you don’t want to do it, I completely understand, but doing the same for Ren is at least worth considering, isn’t it?” She pointed toward Ren’s body. The vibrant colors were dulling before their eyes. It probably wouldn’t be long before she expired altogether.

“I guess.” Shared part of her soul? Was that even possible? As far as Kano was aware, it wasn’t, but she was also aware of how little she knew about all this. Even assuming it was possible, how was she meant to actually do it? And perhaps the more pressing question was if she should.

If she actually could give Ren part of her soul, would it even help? It was possible, but her condition was surely quite different from Nove’s. It might also do nothing at all. And though the value of a portion of her soul was hard to measure, it certainly seemed like a high cost. Would she be the same afterward? Would she even survive?

Was Ren’s life even worth the risk? She was hardly valuable to other people, given that they barely even knew she existed. But to Kano’s surprise, she found that Ren’s life was valuable to her. And she was sure the world would be a better place for having Ren in it, assuming it was the actual Ren rather than this mindless blob before them that would eat anything it touched.

No, she really didn’t like the idea of leaving someone she’d brought out into the world to die. Not again—once had been more than enough for her. Even if it wouldn’t solve anything, she owed it to Ren and herself to try. Nove was right. Better that than have her die without Kano doing anything.

Just as when she’d been paralyzed by Yon in the research center, which felt like a lifetime ago, Kano looked deep within herself. She sat a short distance away from Ren with her eyes closed, trying to concentrate for all she was worth. There was a vague sense of something inside of her, in the metaphysical sense, something vaguely familiar.

But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t grasp it. By the time she opened her eyes, frustrated and convinced she couldn’t do it, Ren had lost much of her color. Kano gingerly reached out and prodded the body with the tip of her finger. The flesh moved inward slightly at her touch, but other than that, there was no reaction.

If there was no color, and she was no longer consuming organic matter that came into contact with her, then she must be dead or close to it. Kano sighed. Despite her best intentions, she hadn’t been able to do anything at all in the end. Part of her wished she’d never tried at all, never gotten involved with Ren.

The world didn’t need another Kano; one was more than enough already. The reasoning seemed solid enough to Kano, but she felt hollow inside. She was never going to speak with Ren again. She’d vanished from her life as abruptly as she’d entered it.

It felt like a terrible waste. Couldn’t someone else have died instead? There was a multitude of ghouls out there in the world that were far less valuable. It would have been much better if one of them had died instead. But of course, that wasn’t how things worked.

Kano shook her head. She couldn’t accept it. There had to be something else she could do. If she couldn’t give Ren part of her soul, then what else did she have to offer? What did Ren need?

The blob had gotten awfully tired on the way over. Was it possible there was more to it than just physical exhaustion? Maybe creating the organisms herself had taxed her body more than anyone had expected. If that was the case, all she needed was more energy.

Kano wasn’t sure how to give her that either, but recalling what had happened when she came into contact with the necromantic energy of the citadel… Maybe she could transfer her own energy.

Pressing her hand against the inanimate mass of flesh that was quickly turning pale, Kano racked her brain for how to begin. She’d never done anything like this before. What did necromancers do when they were giving life to their creations? That line of reasoning might have been helpful if she had any idea how necromancers worked, but she didn’t.

Running out of ideas, Kano simply wished for her energy to transfer to Ren. It was a ridiculous idea, but she was desperate, and to her surprise she felt something drain from her and pass into Ren. Bit by bit, Ren regained her color. Once the blob was her vibrant self once more, her version of Kano reformed.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice slurring.

Lips curling upward, Kano stared at the miraculously recovered Ren. “I think you nearly died. Also, you tried to eat Fifty-Seven.”

“I did?” Ren blinked, long and slow. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t worry about it.” There was no point dwelling on what had happened. No one had been harmed, and there were more pressing matters at hand. “I’m pretty sure it happened because you ran out of energy. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was sitting there with Fifty-Seven, and I started to feel really tired, so I closed my eyes for a rest, and then everything went dark.”

Kano nodded. That confirmed it. “Then we need to get you back to the citadel before you run out again.”

“Why? How will going back to the citadel help?”

“There must be some source of energy that was keeping you alive in your tank. We need to get you back there again.” She gestured for Ren to move, and the blob squeezed her way out of the room.

“I don’t think there was anything like that. An said there was no reason for me to stay in my tank anymore.”

That was true, but was there a source of energy the necromancer hadn’t noticed? Or could she have been lying? Neither seemed particularly likely. “Maybe you were absorbing energy from the citadel’s supply without you or An realizing.” It was the only explanation that made sense.

Ren stopped in the hall outside the children’s room. “But—”

Kano glared at her. “No more arguing. Just get moving already. We can talk about this when you’re not wasting away.” While the blob maneuvered herself out of the building, Kano turned to Nove. “Take care of the children. I’ll be back in a while. Do you think Fifty-Seven will be okay?”

The abomination’s thick-set shoulders rose and fell. “He got a bit of a surprise, but he’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

“Take care of yourself out there.”

Kano paused, a retort on her tongue. But instead of berating Nove, she said, “You too.”