After everything they went through to get to the store, Mary expected many things. She was already surprised by the moment she went through the door, that the place wasn't filled with teeth - just normal, boring shelves with normal, boring articles. Even air-conditioning was operational and pushing slightly too cool air against Mary's too cool skin. Behind the counter, a bored woman in a blue-green striped jumper didn't bother to look up from her phone. She was so busy playing some game that she barely had the time to loudly chew her gum.

There were no clients other than Mary and Paolo. Actually, no other humans at all.

The mini-party went in and quickly found what they were looking for - there was an entire shelf dedicated to Gold Medal flour, and a significant part of that was exactly the organic one they wanted. Mary took two five-pound packs, just for a safety margin, then unsuccessfully tried to whistle slightly at the price she'd just noticed. She looked questioningly at Paolo, who was still twisting his head all around as if he'd been trying to train for neck-gymnastics Olympics.

Yeah, whatever. Mary just wanted to be out of this place.

They went back to the counter and had to clear their throats a few times before the woman took note of them. The woman glanced at their armours as if she'd been seeing adventuring heroes every other day, then scanned the first pack. The second one didn't go through for some reason, and she entered the codes manually, which took forever. Mary had a distinct feeling that someone was watching her from behind... well, someone other than Mossie, to be precise - the moneysucker was almost always watching.

Ignoring her brain, which was being a particular jerk at the moment, she paid for the groceries. It gave her an unprecedented opportunity to admire the speed at which the clerk returned to her phone. Before the cash register drawer fully closed, she'd already forgotten her clients, work, and most of the world. Mary almost commented on the entire situation, but a single glare from Paolo made her reconsider her life choices.

They left the building back into the scorching sun, constantly glancing behind - the store was still just a store, it didn't seem to move in any way, the door let them out without any fight... Paolo looked at Mary half-disapprovingly, half-nervously, even as he stepped on the flying disc he left floating outside beforehand.

“Let's get out of here before something else happens. Muchmighty knows best, I want to be as far out of her as possible,” he said.

Mary just nodded.

The way back went almost as smoothly as the shopping itself. They only encountered one group of bandits, and they didn't exactly pose any threat. All it took was a flick of Paolo's wrist, and his disc had gained additional three feet in diameter - Mary shuddered as she thought how casually her friend had just used the still-warm bodies as raw material.

On the other hand, it was a long day, night, and another day, and she wanted to be 'home' nearly as much as he did. Still, Mary was really glad when she could finally leave the darned creation behind. She started walking down the stairs into Camp Quarter-Blood's tunnels when she noticed that no one was following her.

“Paolo?” she called.

“Just a second,” he said, staring at their darned vehicle. “I mean... after all... why shouldn't I keep it?”

There were probably thousands of reasons, but Mary didn't have the time to interject before the disc collapsed upon itself and rushed towards her friend in a single splash of crimson. In seconds, his armour was upgraded with a fresh, bloody layer.

“Yeah, that's better,” he said, flexing his now blood-supported arms.

Mossie's low buzzing was all the response he got as they finally descended.

Some would have wondered at the excellency at which their mission was performed.

No casualties (on their side of things). Target acquired with a safety margin. Execution time weeks shorter than any proposed alternatives.

In some places, that would have earned them a medal. Not here.

“You paid HOW MUCH?!”

It should be marked that Arthur didn't flare his power in any futile intimidation attempts. But it could just as well be mentioned how close he was.

“Be reasonable,” Mary tried to defend her masterfully executed masterplan.

“You paid forty dollars for ten pounds of flour, and you tell me to be reasonable?!”

“Hey, the alternative was a month-long adventure!”

“Don't mind me. I'll just wait here until you sort this out,” Paolo muttered and stifled another yawn.

“Exactly! Maybe now you'll see why we don't do stuff this way?” Arthur didn't bother acknowledging the interruption.

“No!”

There was a pause. In the resulting silence, Mary could only hear Arthur's and Paolo's breathing. Arthur was probably doing his part just for the public though- somehow, she doubted the undead king, prince, half-prince or whatever he was really needed to bother with such details as breathing.

“Look,” he said after a long time. “Let's finish this some other time. You're tired, and you have every right not to be thinking clearly right now. You each have a private room assigned - go there, get some rest, and we'll come back to this some other day. Oh, and you can place that flour next to the wall below Nicolaus, he'll guard it well until the time comes.”

Mary didn't feel like she was tired enough to give up so easily, but a look at Paolo's face reminded her that he certainly was. She owed him at least a bit of rest.

“Where are those rooms you speak about?” she finally asked.

“Just use the walls. They respond to the phrase 'my room' correctly.”