The roaring stopped, but the noise didn’t. Whatever had triggered the outcry had triggered a larger ruckus, and the ruckus was ruckusing as hard as it could in every direction. Booms and slams and all manner of jock jam style sounds were now filling the jungle.

Just as the roaring had, that calmed then ceased. There was no return to usual jungle cacophony or to the silence that had come when the sun darkened. Instead, What replaced it was an occasional series of low knocks. A ‘whap whap whap’ that sounded from all angles and distances.

The knee jerk reaction to the interruption of her eclipse gazing had been irritation. As the scale of what she was facing and the total lack of understanding of the threat sank in, that shifted to fear, then a low, unsettled wariness as she waited for whatever may come. Crouched down, spear steady, eyes wide and shifting to every new knock.

A close whap whap whap, whap whap whap sounded as if in applause to the spirit’s thought.

What is this? What’s happening?

Some kind of fucking eclipse monster? How the fuck does that work?

How long…

An extremely close series of knocks interrupted the thought. The low whap whap whap was followed by higher pitched clicks, almost inaudible. Now that it had drawn her attention, the footsteps stood out against the background noise. Her mystery knocker was prowling the jungle next to the road.

The little clicks grew louder as the steps grew closer. She shifted, spear point following the source. Afraid to move her feet, afraid to breathe, afraid to make any noise at all. The steps stopped nearly as close as they could be without joining her on the road.

Whap whap whap! It was loud. Nearly loud enough for Karen to jump out of her skin. The knocks preceded a flurry of clicks, all set to the same pattern.

The tension eased when the creature started moving away, and a carefully controlled breath entered her lungs after what felt like minutes.

How long is this eclipse going to last? Her question, rudely interrupted by an anthropomorphic mechanical keyboard, was finally asked.

Well, you seemed pretty confident a second ago.

Whatever, shut up. What should we do?

Not ideal. And a waste of time and effort too. It felt like an entire day had passed in the trip out alone.

Clicky boy hadn’t gone far, and Karen never let his attention on him falter. It hadn’t gone far, but from its new position a gap in the green wall afforded a view. Too dark to make out details, most of what she saw was size, and it had some to spare.

Its body jolted rhythmically. Whap whap whap! Then the clicks followed in little spasmatic jerks. It stood still, patiently waiting for something unknown. If it was the jungle bus then it must be running late, because the creature roared with displeasure. A deafening, deep bellow that rattled Karen’s bones.

Solid advice, the creature was already barreling through greenery in an effort to get at her.

She took the spirit on his suggestion, moving at the same time that roars were sounding in the distance. Her legs pumped hard against the roadway, moving in a dead sprint toward the distant and unseen ruins. She didn’t make it far before a blow from behind stopped her dead in her tracks.

Karen rolled, recovering smoothly from the hit and coming up in a single motion to face her attacker. She didn’t have far to look; it was working hard to close the gap on the object of its ire. It was an ugly bastard. A gnarled, green stump of a body connected to thick limbs of the same color. Its oversized arms came up in preparation to pummel.

With only a fraction of a second to prepare, Karen summoned her spear and set her feet. Eyes and grip firm. She was ready.

She wasn’t ready.

By the time she collected herself from where she’d nearly been slammed off the road, the creature had very nearly closed the gap again. She was bruised and battered, but not quite broken. She blinked, eyes focusing once more on the enemy.

The smoky spear had managed to sink about an inch into its gut, and remained there still. About an inch of tip was all it needed to firmly lodge itself in the craggy, green exterior, and the monster continued along uncaring of the wound or the weapon protruding from it. She had given it everything. Pushed as hard as she could. Combined with the momentum of the giant, that was apparently all she could achieve. It was hard to accept.

As hard as she had worked. All the fights she’d won, both in breezing through or just narrowly conquering. The luck she’d had. The advancement. The impossibly sharp weapon. All of it amounted to only an inch into the green hide. Barely enough blade to grievously wound a twinkie.

The creature was almost on top of her, once again raising its arms to pummel. By all indications, the gorilla slam was its bread and butter. Karen turned her head, looking far off into the distance down the ivory road. To come all this way only to be beaten effortlessly, it was a bitter pill. Such an enormous disappointment.

Quickstep.

Since developing the ability, Karen had little time to test its limits. A whopping maximum of zero uses per day, eventually upgraded to a blazing hot one, really put a damper on things. Essentially, she’d been gifted a Ferrari and been rationed a shot glass of gasoline every day. Fuck a ration. She wanted a full tank. A full tank and a glock in her rari.

The quickstep distance test was a roaring success. As far as she could tell, if she could see it, she could be there. Her legs were pumping once more. Not quite as powerfully as before she had been pummeled by a greenskin’s tree trunk arm, but fast enough that she was feeling comfortable in not dying in the next several minutes.

Far away, an angry roar called out. Doubtless a certain green someone was upset they didn’t get to squeeze out a tube of Karenpaste. The roar changed to a ‘whap whap whap!’

Turns out I hate greenskins. You could have told me they were monstrous killing machines.

What do you mean it’s not a greenskin? Big guy, green skin. If I asked a second-grade class to use their imagination and draw what they thought a greenskin would look like, I’d get thirty crayon drawings of that fucking monster. Fifteen if it’s a private school.

That had not been the definition of monster she intended, but it was still eye-opening news. No way they were here last time the spirit was, or else he would have some knowledge of them. That means they’re a new arrival of some sort, and one strong enough to push out the settled population.

Holy shit.

More eye-opening news, a glance behind her showed that not only had the thing tracked where she’d gone but was narrowing the gap at a frightening pace. Her own pace picked up, not that there was much effort left to give. She was essentially sprinting down the road.

The gap continued to narrow as she ran, with each glance back confirming the impressive pace that the hulking thing was managing. Nothing that big should be able to run so fast.

The brief glances she was able to manage without slowing revealed details she hadn’t been able to see before. Its fucked up nightmare visage had some kind of a plant thing growing from it in lieu of an actual face. Its too-small head consisted entirely of only that shaking plank of a plant and a tiny mouth that didn’t at all fit the body’s theme.

In a moment of self-control, Karen resisted telling him where he could shove his bad but helpful news. She’d have to risk another quickstep. There was no other option. Being energy drained into nothingness was a step above being pounded into paste. She steeled herself, readying for the moment it was inevitable.

Adrenaline pumped. Her breathing was ragged. She continued to push.

Fifteen seconds was the cue. The world lightened as a sliver of the sun’s light erupted from over the planet’s edge. A look that risked slowing her speed was thrown behind her. Her pursuer was withering. It was shrinking in on itself, the green skin graying and wrinkling. Even a glance of the star’s intensity was enough to reduce it to a mere shadow of its former glory in moments.

Pausing her trip to observe the spectacle, it did not appear the transformation was a willing one. It continued on, thrashing and fighting, until the transformation completed. The ugly bastard had become part of the jungle again, this time dead center on the road. And worse, it was familiar.

How many of these did we see on the way in?

Her approach was slow and cautious, with the spear out and ready. The giant morel didn’t move. From the two huge stems to the wrinkly bell, the mushroom had run out of gas. The jungle turned back on like a flip had been switched, not a single creature late to its job on the ambience farm.

You were right about the night thing too. On a roll today.

A trial poke didn’t cause so much as a shiver. It also didn’t cause so much as a scratch. There wasn’t a ton of power behind it, but mushroom armor doesn’t play. The follow up had oomph, putting a thin cut in one of the morel’s segments.

Fucking hell, this thing is made of steel.

It was not only tough on the outside. A dozen blasted thrusts struggled to break through the outer crags, leaving Karen convinced she was hurting her own joints more than the mushroom beast. A dozen more scored a deeper wound that was spreading with every hit.

Thrust after thrust continued until she was out of breath, reminding her of some lackluster dates, until finally she broke through. Even a steelshroom can only take so many hits before something inside gets ruined, and this was a greatest hits tour. The tour was equipped with hydrotechnics, first leaking then pouring out of the shroomwound. The hits continued.

A shockingly powerful rush of source assaulted her then passed, offering relief on two fronts. With the low-level energy drain cured, a level of pep had returned to her step. With the scary-ass giant cured of living, an even greater pep was introduced to her step.

Is there time to make it back?

No. That’s no good. Not acceptable, either. What do you mean, no? You let me stab that thing for fifteen minutes, and you’re going to tell me we have to spend an entire night here?

There was plenty to think about. The logic was understandable, but what truly mattered was feelings, and she had so many of those they started to spill from her mouth. By the time the tantrum ended, as much time had been lost as what she was upset about.

In the end, the situation proved her advanced upsetedness was not at all necessary. As the sun sank below the trees, Karen rose up into one. The moon had found some kind of equilibrium. The greenskin shroom-men ruled the ground and the night, and the trees belonged to everyone else. An excessively long, boring, and occasionally terrifying night later, Karen reentered the ruins and slipped through the gate.