"The shotgun route – with a 6-shot Grandor-made gun, ESX series

Start at the western wing's entrance and head towards the gardens when you hear the first cries. After 200 steps, a scuttler will burst out of the bush directly on your left. Kill it with a single shot. Do not reload yet; in 5 seconds three others will skirt around the corner of the building, drawn by the sound of your gunfire. Dispatch them with your remaining ammo.

Reload, and continue walking westward. As you reach the corner of the building, wait 10 seconds. A scuttler will drop down from the roof to ambush you, but you can shoot it dead after sidestepping its attack. Wait 10 more seconds. That’s when you’ll see a group of servants running towards you, 14 scuttlers chasing them."

— Optimal clearing routes, written by Bezel

When Bezel woke up, he was pleased to note that Mira hadn’t murdered him in his sleep. In fact, in spite of her threats she hadn’t even tried to strangle him.

The three of them had spent the night in the chamber. The mess of the previous day had been cleared up more or less; the chamber was still one step away from chaos, but at least Bezel could actually access his bed now. They had managed to fit in everything necessary—even Lynn’s incubator had been installed by the evening. The little girl was floating in a glass tank of greenish liquid, her head locked into place with a contraption that allowed her to breathe. Bezel liked to think that for her, this was something akin to sleeping—but truth be told, her current state unnerved him a little. If not for the occasional twitch of her limbs, he would have thought her dead.

By the time Bezel woke up, Lynn was still unconscious—she would spend the entire day within her incubator—but Mira was already up, sitting on the remnants of her bed. The frame had been completely splintered in the previous day’s tussle, so at the moment the mattress was lying on the ground. Bezel had considered throwing the whole thing out in favor of a smaller bed, but in the end he relented—with the ulterior motive that he’d let Lynn sleep next to Mira whenever she wasn’t in her incubator.

Yeah, Mira was going to like that.

Bezel wondered how long her determination to stay down here would last. As far as he knew, there were two reasons she moved in to the Static Chamber. The first was that she didn’t trust him about the end of the time loop, suspecting a trap; she wanted to keep on eye out, in case he had lied about the date of the reset. The second reason was the presence of assassins—and her certain death in every other timeline.

As for Bezel, he didn’t mind Mira's company; no matter how rude and obnoxious she was, Bezel couldn’t actually hate her. Not even after her little refurbishing-stunt on the previous day. Besides, there was something oddly pleasing about seeing the Lady of House Dawngrove live under such conditions.

She had a horrible bed hair, and there were no maids here to brush it for her. She wore no makeup—it was the first time Bezel saw her like this—and she had a nightshirt on, simple and modest. She wasn’t much to look at, yet Bezel would have still preferred this look over her usual made-up self. Currently she was in a foul mood, though—even more so than normally.

"Are you still upset about what happened?" Bezel asked.

Mira just scoffed, pointedly ignoring him as she rooted around in a bag of clothes. She then turned her back to him and changed out of her nightshirt—either not shy at all, or just well past caring by this point.

"Why are you the one who's mad, anyways?" Bezel continued teasing her. "It was me whose living room was suddenly rearranged by a meddling woman. If anything, I should be offended!"

"You spanked me, you brute!" Mira snapped, glaring at him hatefully. "Spanked me right in front of my servants!"

Bezel raised an eyebrow. "Would it have been different if I had spanked you privately?"

"I'm going to strangle you in your sleep," Mira snarled, but Bezel just laughed.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad," he said. "Because of your aura, your servants were too busy crapping their pants to see anything—and even if they did, all of it will be wiped clean next week."

"I have other ideas what to wipe clean," Mira grumbled, and that was the end of their conversation.

While the Lady of House Dawngrove pouted on her mattress, Bezel busied himself by getting ready for the day. He started with the usual: checking the batteries which powered the lights and his various other machines, as well as the ventilation system. By the looks of it, he’d run out of Krinil power within three or four days. He needed to steal another battery by the end of the loop—or better yet, now that Mira was here he could just ask her to charge the batteries up.

Next came the small metal box in the corner, responsible for circulating air through the small air vent connected to the chamber. Although it was fortunate that the Static Chamber had a built-in way to provide fresh air, sadly it hadn’t been used for centuries; the filter in the machine needed to be changed regularly due to the accumulated dust and dirt. Worse yet, it was a never-ending task because the air vent returned to its dusty state every single week.

Once done with the usual check-ups, Bezel got dressed and stepped out to do his morning ablutions. Another two drawbacks of the chamber; bringing in fresh water was laborious, and using the chamber pot was out of question now that he had guests.

By the time he arrived back, Mira was already dressed up. She was clad in dark leathers, her inky-black hair tied up in a tight bun. A high-tech Krinhanced handgun was holstered at her hips, but she also had a pair of swords—sleek and absurdly long—sheathed across her back. Even without the weapons, Bezel could have guessed what she was up to; her vivid green eyes were brimming with determination.

"Today is the day when the warbeasts get loose," Mira said, then added, "According to you."

Bezel grunted, tearing his eyes off Mira to look at his collection of weapons.

"Which weapons do you want me to take?" he asked, tossing his two-handed sword out of the way. "Shotgun or double handguns? Or perhaps something fancier, like the Razer R05 Railgun?"

"Pick whatever you want," Mira said haughtily. "Just don't get in my way."

"Double handguns, then," Bezel said. Those were better against the little scuttlers; Bezel had a hunch that those would be what he’d be dealing with while Mira went for the big ones.

He picked up the belt that holstered his favorite pair of weapons, the Singers; larger than average handguns that looked more like handheld cannons, fitting nicely in his palms. He then rooted around for his bandoliers, strapping two across his chest and a third one over his belt, and fastened the smaller ones around his thighs and his upper arms. Magazines in optimal reach all over his body.

By the time he got ready, Mira was tapping her foot impatiently. When they exited the chamber and started hiking up the corridor, Bezel couldn't help but wonder what exactly motivated her. Did she want to kill the warbeasts because she still didn't fully believe in the time loop? Perhaps, though if that was the case neither would she believe in the warbeasts getting free.

Maybe she just wanted to exercise, like Bezel sometimes did. He had a hunch though that wasn't the case either. He had to admit that he didn't know Mira as well as he was ought to—he had been too wary to approach her, time loop or not—but he could still tell that she wouldn't see the situation as an opportunity to hone her fighting skills. Not when the lives of her subjects were on the line.

Would she keep protecting them in each and every loop, no matter how futile her actions were?

"So, what do we know about these warbeasts?" Mira broke his contemplative the silence.

Bezel raised an eyebrow at her. "Don’t you supposed to know? They are your warbeasts, bought to protect your House."

"Answer the question, slave."

"Hah! That’s a really strange way of saying please."

For several long seconds Mira said nothing while they trudged along the dark corridor, Bezel’s oil lamp lighting the way. But just as they were about to reach the exit, she surprised him by speaking up.

"Please, would you tell me already about the warbeasts we’re going to fight?"

"Well, if you insist," Bezel said as they emerged from the corridor. The light rain was blocked out by the foliage above, but the soft prattling sound it made permeated the forest. "I call them scuttlers. They move kinda fast with their six insectoid legs. Their bodies—"

"I know what they look like," Mira injected. "I’ve seen them once, when they were brought in."

Bezel nodded, then snuffed out his lamp and placed it into a neat little crook by the entrance. He jumped down to the stream, his boots sinking into the mud. To her credit, Mira followed him without hesitation.

"What I want to know is why they are such a problem," she said. "Why can’t my guards deal with two small monsters in a timely manner?"

"Yeah, small," Bezel said with a snort. "Like a small house."

"What? No, they are—"

"They grew."

"The beastmaster hasn’t told me anything about them getting larger," Mira said, her lips drawn into a small frown. "Is he a traitor too?"

"I don’t know," Bezel replied, "But I don't think so. He's a strange fellow, but not a malicious one."

"We’ll see about that."

Bezel shrugged. "You're also wrong about their numbers, by the way."

Mira activated her powerfield for a moment, leaving him behind as she jumped over an especially muddy part of the riverbank.

"Ah, yes," Mira said after she landed. "Originally there were two, but they're supposed to reproduce. How many of them are there now? Half a dozen? A dozen?"

"Last time I checked, there were a hundred and fifty-one of them."

The statement caused Mira to slip, almost falling over.

"You’re joking," she said, whirling around to look at him suspiciously.

"I’m not that much of a funny guy," Bezel said. "Don’t worry though, only the original scuttlers are as big as houses. The rest are newborns, moving out now that it has started to rain. They need the water, but they also need something to feed on. That's why they attack your household, I believe. Meanwhile, papa and mama scuttler just want to protect their babies."

Bezel continued to brief Mira in on the finer details as they walked towards the mansion, the forest around them slowly thinning out. All in all, Mira took the news about the imminent attack rather well. She didn’t even threaten to strangle Bezel when he admitted that he often used the situation for training with his firearms, regarding the entire situation as a game.

When the main building of the mansion came to sight, the two of them picked up the pace. Panicked shouts could be heard in the distance, the sound of gunshots following close behind. Bezel grunted reproachfully; he had misjudged the time the two of them needed to get to the scene. By the time they reached the western wing of the main building, the first casualties—two middle-aged guardsmen—were already lying on the ground, mangled beyond recognition.

Five scuttlers surrounded the corpses, their gray, scaly bodies glistening in the rain. They curled and uncurled their tails in excitement as they feasted on the corpses, their small reptilian heads drenched in blood. The fine hairs on their arthropod legs alerted them of Mira’s and Bezel’s approach even without looking up; when Mira made an abrupt movement to draw her gun, the scuttlers scattered in different directions.

Mira opened fire immediately, shooting crimson-colored energy-bullets at a measured pace. Bezel pulled out his guns too, but withheld fire for now; he wanted to see how well Mira fared. One of the scuttlers had lost all of its legs on one side to a bullet and was writhing on the ground, but the others dodged Mira’s bullets nimbly. They moved in a rather unpredictable manner as they charged towards her, their three pairs of legs allowing them to change directions abruptly.

Crimson-red powerfield bubbled around Mira’s body while she kept shooting. Two phantom-arms that emerged from her shoulder reached back to grasp her swords, drawing them in a wide arc which forced Bezel to take a step back. Mira's powerfield then enveloped the swords too—none too fast, as the first scuttler was already lunging at her. Mira didn’t have time to swing her sword around, but defended herself by blocking the attack with the blade—something that would have been normally ill-advised with such a thin weapon, but the powerfield-reinforced blades had no chance of snapping. The moment she caught the scuttler with her swords, Mira fired her gun point-blank and blew off the entire the lower half of the creature.

The remaining three warbeasts weren’t far behind either; one by one they jumped towards Mira, trying to overwhelm her. Two of the scuttlers were cleanly sliced through before even reaching her, while the last one earned a hole trough its chest as it bit—entirely futilely—into Mira’s powerfield-covered leg.

Bezel finished off the fight by shooting the very first scuttler that still squirmed in agony from the loss of its legs. By the time he turned back, Mira was already stomping towards the next group of scuttlers—this one more like a swarm. She sheathed one of her swords and switched to another emotion, her powerfield taking on a bright yellow color that vibrated over her skin. Her phantoms limbs disappeared, but she deftly caught her remaining sword with her right hand and raised her Krinhanced gun with her left. She opened fire at the scuttlers, the sizzling-yellow shots missing the creatures but being more than enough to draw the their attention.

Bezel had half a mind to warn her not to waste her shots in such way—Krinhanced weapons overheated easily, especially handguns like hers—but he could imagine how Mira would reply to his warning. Likely with something along the lines of not needing advice from lowly slaves. He had to admit though that there was a chance Mira knew what she was doing. Unlike most of the guards who guarded the mansion, she had a powerful enough Krinil-gem to shield herself continuously, making her less reliant on guns.

The swarm of scuttlers fell on Mira within seconds, but this time Bezel couldn’t afford to sit back and observe; several scuttlers detached themselves from the rest to target him. He raised his guns to answer their challenge and started firing at the nimble creatures, the Singers in his hands sounding a deathly concerto. The kick-back of his weapons was absurdly strong compared to normal guns, but his enhanced strength made it trivial to hold the weapons still. The bullets he shot might not have been as destructive as Mira’s shots, but they still killed the baby-scuttlers just fine. He wasn’t the best shot—he had spent the first twenty years of his life without ever holding a gun—but he tried his best to lay waste to the little monsters. In fact, trying was rather the point of this exercise; had he already achieved perfect aim with his Singers, he wouldn’t have bothered bringing them.

He did quite well this time, in his opinion. Of the ten or so scuttlers that decided he looked tastier than Mira, only three managed to reach him. One latched onto his arm while he was reloading, and earned a bashed-in skull as a reward. The other two were sneakier, circling around Bezel to attack him from behind. Their maneuver worked, sort of; one jumped onto his back, while the other bit into his right calf—or at least would have, had its teeth been able to penetrate his skin. Bezel shot the one at his leg before it could have mangled his trousers too badly, but the one on his back was trickier. It was threatening to cut his bandoliers off as it scuttled this way and that to dodge the bullets Bezel fired over his shoulder.

"Argh, not again!" Bezel growled in frustration. He wasn’t flexible enough to reach the middle of his back, and he didn’t want to throw himself to the muddy ground just to dislocate the offending scuttler.

His plight was resolved when he felt a sudden sting in his back, and the remnants of the scuttler fell to the ground.

"You’re welcome," Mira said, lowering her gun. The battlefield around her was strewn with scuttler corpses, monster blood mixing with the mud. Mira was uninjured of course—aside from getting wet in the rain, her leather clothes were as pristine as ever.

"Thanks," Bezel said, tugging on his bandoliers to see if they were undamaged. "You owe me a new shirt, though."

"Where next?" Mira asked, ignoring Bezel’s remark. Such a shame, that. It was genuinely difficult to get new clothes in his size, considering the restrictions of the time loop. Bezel would have appreciated if Mira hadn’t kept ruining his shirts every other day.

He sighed. "I assume you want to find the big scuttlers?"

Mira nodded curtly.

"Papa-scuttler arrives from the stables within a couple of minutes," Bezel said. "Meanwhile, your men have formed a defensive line at the western entrance. They are about to clash with Mama-scuttler."

"How long will they hold?"

"They’ll hold," Bezel said. "They will kill the scuttlers, eventually. Most of the kitchens will be demolished, and a good portion of your guards will die, along with your Guard Captain."

Mira nodded once more, hesitating only briefly before walking towards the stables. Bezel followed her close behind, eyeing the treeline next to the stables. He could already hear the distinctive hissing sound of the scuttlers, though something felt distinctly off. Wasn’t papa-scuttler supposed to be here already? There was no sign of trees falling sideways and foliage shaking wildly as the enormous warbeast forced its way through the woods. If the timeline changed—

"Aaagh! Help me!"

The beastmaster, a portly middle-aged man stumbled around the corner of the nearest barn, still far away but jogging in their direction. Bezel narrowed his eyes, feeling uncertain. How was the man still alive? He watched Mira increase her pace, readying her weapons—

—and the wooden wall of the barn suddenly exploded as an enormous shape burst through it. In spite of its size it moved with remarkable speed, pouncing on the beastmaster before he could so much as cry out. One giant leg pinned the poor man to the ground and the warbeast let out a long hiss, which was so loud that Bezel could practically feel the air vibrating. His eyes widened that moment, realizing that something was distinctly off; no horn protruded from the warbeast's snout, which could only mean—

"Uh, Mira I don’t think—"

But the woman was already running towards the mama-scuttler, firing repeatedly. Whenever the energy-bullets hit, the warbeast's scales shimmered with colors under the impact, conducting the Krinil-power and distributing it evenly along the beast's body. Bezel had warned Mira that this would be the case; these warbeasts had been created specifically for combating the Krinfused.

In the following moment Bezel saw some of the trees fall over—finally. The current timeline wasn't that much different, after all. Papa-scuttler emerged from the woods, six insectoid legs working swiftly and precisely to get the beast through the difficult terrain. The creature looked roughly the same as mama-scuttler, except for its darker gray scales and its pointed horn that was longer than Bezel was tall. And if the two large beasts weren't enough, dozens of baby-scuttlers swarmed out from the forest as well, some heading for the beastmaster's body, while the others—alongside with papa-scuttler—went to intercept Mira's charge.

She saw the warbeasts coming, of course. Even as Bezel opened fire on the smaller scuttlers, Mira came to a halt and turned to face the incoming enemies head-on, sword extended in front of her. The powerfield around her changed once again, turning dark blue with a texture resembling molten wax dripping slowly to the ground. Created from sorrow, it was the heaviest of all powerfields. It pooled around her legs, latching onto the ground and anchoring her as she waited for papa-scuttler to arrive.

She didn't stand any chance. Papa-scuttler reached her within seconds, ramming her with its horn at full tilt. Mira blocked the attack of course, but it didn't matter much considering the weight difference between her and her enemy. She was flung away with the patch of muddy earth she had been clinging to, flying in the direction of the main building . . . and disappearing out of sight as she crashed. The baby-scuttlers sprinted after her, and Bezel let them, holstering his guns while papa-scuttler swung its enormous head in his direction.

"I guess it's me and you again, eh?" Bezel asked.

The warbeast let out a low hiss, eyeing him with yellow, slitted eyes. The pupils almost seemed to glow, as its gray scales and dark legs blended into the washed-out colors of the rainy weather. Lightning flashed in the distance, and Bezel blinked. By the time his eyes opened, the warbeast was already halfway upon him with its horn pointed straight at him—exactly what he had been hoping for.

Fighting larger warbeasts was trickier than it seemed. No matter how strong Bezel was, he had a serious disadvantage; his weight. Raw strength didn't help much when a creature rammed you with the speed of a train, and neither did it any good if said creature decided to gobble you up. Even if papa-scuttler couldn't bite through Bezel's skin, it could inconvenience him greatly. Bezel had some experience dealing with these situations though, thanks to the many embarrassing lessons he received from the scuttlers.

He reacted in the very last second. Skipping sideways when the scuttler reached him, he grabbed the top of the horn and gripped it so tight that his fingers threatened to shatter the bone. He yanked the warbeast's head downwards with the same motion, but didn't try to outright stop the creature. He let it rush past him instead, spinning with it but holding on, twisting the beast's head without counteracting its momentum. The scuttler tried to pull its head back in vain as Bezel forced it down until—

Crack! The middle of the horn shattered to pieces as the creature's body sailed past Bezel. The resulting backlash was still strong enough to unbalance Bezel, but he managed to keep his footing. But the same couldn't be said about papa-scuttler as it skidded along the ground, its legs gouging the earth as it tried to right itself in vain. It screeched in agony, purple fluid oozing from the remnants of its horn. Unlucky for Bezel; two times out of ten, it wasn't the horn that snapped but the scuttler's neck.

No time to dally, though. Bezel could feel the ground shaking under his feet, which could mean only one thing. Tightening his grip on the horn once again, he pivoted in place and swung it around with all his strength—and caught mama-scuttler's lower jaw just as it was about to close its pointy teeth around him. The remnants of the horn shattered in his hand, but so did the warbeast's jaw. Mama-scuttler was momentarily dazed, so Bezel took the opportunity to duck under its head and seize its closest leg in a powerful hug. Twist and pull; that was all to it. For a brief moment the entire warbeast jolted forward, but then the lowest joint of the limb gave away and Bezel ripped the leg off.

Mama-scuttler shied away with a hiss of pain, but Bezel couldn't press on with his attack because papa-scuttler was on him once again. It tried to bite down on him this time, closing on him so swiftly that Bezel had no time to dodge. He was able to raise the severed leg however, and positioned in a way that its end got stuck in the roof of the beast's mouth. Gagging at the foul-smelling breath wafting his nostrils, Bezel held the leg in place even as papa-scuttler lifted him up and shook its head to dislodge him.

Time to end this quick.

Letting go of the hairy leg with one hand, Bezel drew one of his Singers and unloaded the entire magazine down the creature's throat. The squiggling and head-shaking intensified, and papa-scuttler's forked tongue finally managed to flick the piece of leg sideways. Bezel tried to jump out of the maw as it snapped shut, but his right leg was caught between the scuttler's giant teeth. Dammit. Now it was certain that he'd need new trousers too, and maybe even boots as well.

Papa-scuttler shook its head some more, trying to maul Bezel—until he bent over and punched the creature's snout. This prompted the beast to let him go, flinging him up and away. Double dammit. Bezel sighed, holstering his gun once again and twisting in the air to look downwards. He saw a streak of red sprinting towards the two warbeasts, baby-scuttler corpses littering the ground. He had quite the sight on the mansion on his left too—sadly, it didn't last long. Soaring past the western wing of the main building, he eyed his imminent landing site; the slaves' sleeping quarters.

He didn't quite make it that far. His flight ended in front of the building, where he smashed to the ground and bounced back up, spinning wildly even as he flailed his arms to break his momentum. He crashed through a window and landed on something that crunched under him, then slammed into a wall which finally stopped him.

He shot a worried look back where he came from, afraid that he landed on one of the men—and saw a pulverized baby-scuttler lying on the floor. He sprang to his feet quickly, taking note of the group of slaves hiding behind a makeshift barricade, one of them swinging a broom wildly to keep three baby-scuttlers at bay. Bezel's sudden entrance made the warbeasts turn towards him however, hoping for an easier meal.

They lunged at him almost simultaneously. Bezel kicked out, his leg connecting with one of the scuttlers head-on, sending it flying out the broken window. He caught the second by the throat and broke its neck with a quick squeeze, while the third succeeded in latching onto his elbow—but only briefly, as in the next second he was flattened to the floor.

"S-Shoes?" came Dunce's frightened voice from behind the barricade. "Did-did you just—"

"Dunce, I've told you to call me Bezel."

Dunce gaped at him, along with the others.

"Y-you just flew in, t-then— With your bare hands—"

"Yes," Bezel said, walking towards the window. "Now if you don't want to die, escape through the servant's corridor to the kitchen. The monsters won't eat you that way."

With that said he climbed out and—ignoring the slaves' chorus of pleas for him to stay—started running. Quick, powerful steps first, but as he started to pick up speed his strides turned into long bounds.

He reached the giant scuttlers in no time. Much to his surprise, Mira had the situation in hand—she was on the offensive, in fact. She had gone back to her blood-red powerfield, sporting no less than four phantom limbs this time. Forgoing her weapons, she used the limbs solely for navigating the battlefield. She chased after a five-legged mama-scuttler while papa-scuttler lay on ground, most of its limbs severed from its body.

Still running, Bezel stomped hard on the ground and shot himself to the sky, aiming towards the edge of the woods where mama-scuttler was heading to.

"Here I come!" he hollered, grinning widely.

Yeah, it may have been stupid to announce his attack with a shout—but Hell, if it wasn't stylish he didn't know what was. Mama-scuttler wouldn't be able to dodge in time anyways, as it was too busy putting some distance between itself and the she-demon on its figurative heels. Bezel landed perfectly, both of his feet forward, hitting mama-scuttler on the middle of its snout. The force of his arrival smashed the creature's head into the ground hard, driving the warbeast onto its belly and making it slide the remaining distance to the woods.

Bezel didn't wait for the end of the trip though, jumping off the creature with a flip before it crashed into the trees.

"Woo-hoo!" Bezel cheered, raising his fists in the air as he managed to land without stumbling. Some of the trees fell over on top of mama-scuttler—and though the beast wasn't moving anymore, Mira didn't waste her time to pounce on it and tear its hairy legs into shreds. Bezel waited for her to finish, checking on his Singers in the meantime. They were still in one piece, thankfully, but they would need some maintenance. He didn't get in too much practice with them today, but hopefully there were still some scuttlers wandering about.

"Come on, slave," Mira told him, leaving mama-scuttler behind and taking off towards the stables with a brisk walk.

"That's not where the scuttlers are," Bezel remarked, hurrying after her. Damned woman always expected him to follow.

"The guards can deal with the rest," Mira said. "We've something more important to do."

"Celebrating our victory with your finest wine?"

"No," Mira said, shooting him an annoyed look. "We're going to get some answers. First we find Mashek if he still lives, then visit Rainguard."

Bezel smiled at her, which for some reason seemed to annoy her even further. Mira might not know how to relax, but damn—she knew how to make his week interesting. He hadn't been this busy in years. Whistling a merry tune while ignoring Mira's orders to shut up, he felt himself filling up with newfound enthusiasm. He was eager to find out what the rest of the loop held for them.