“Today is the day,” Arthur said in his mummiest voice.

Hundreds of rebels were gathered in the audience hall. Hans, Margaret, and Paolo, who was still in his bloody armour, stood by Mary's side, while Bromman kept to himself in one of the corners, keeping an eye on creatures and heroes of all shapes, sizes and apparently hygiene standards.

“Long have we waited. So long. Many of those who embarked with us on this journey are no longer here, But today this ends!”

Further away, she saw a few friends she'd made at the Academy - Danielle, Kevin, Cesius and Melanie, all in their wizardly outfits. The last of them noticed Mary's gaze and waved to her in a way that was probably meant to be discrete. The motion was enough to alert Danielle, and for a moment, her eyes met Mary's. A quiet version of a familiar voice rang directly in her head - “I did what I thought best for my team. Please do not prove me wrong.” Before she could answer, the contact broke.

“Today, we stand as one. Today, we called upon our allies, and they had answered our call!”

Mary had a place of honour next to the display with the goofy muffin. It would be her job to do what needed to be done. Which was apparently to “Serve at the Chapel that ought to be more consistent, When all hope is lost.” It sounded almost as encouraging as an optional extra double-long Geography lecture.

“Today, we march! Together!”

If she'd already run out of hope, could she just call it a day and be done with it? She'd sooner pay all the fines Mossie slapped her with than make any sense of that prophecy thingy.

“Today, we awaken the sand kraken!”

What?

Arthur raised his hand to the air, demonstrating a large coin shining with too many colours to the gathered crowd. It looked exactly like the one Mary saw Bromman pay him all the way back then, but now she could also feel it. The blackness it occasionally shone with wasn't just a lack of light - it was a shadow at least as dark as the shadowy creatures once troubling her friends.

Come to think of it, Bromman said he was type O himself... where was his 'little friend'?

Anyway, the man stood up from his throne and knocked on its back. After a few seconds, a voice like a stone grinding against another stone shook the room.

“Who's there?”

Arthur didn't seem to lose his balance, and neither did Mary, but she saw at least four people lying on the floor.

“Me,” he answered.

The stone cracked, and a thumb-height micro-door opened to reveal... a coin slot?

Arthur inserted the black-rainbowy abomination into the opening, and a loud clink, clink, clink noise carried over the audience chamber. For a moment, everyone stood in utter silence.

Then, the floor shook, and there came a series of “yelp”s, “quack”s and “watch how you're standing, you piece of horsecrap”s, as various men and creatures collapsed to the sandstone floor. Mary felt... fixed to the point in space, rather than relying on just her legs to keep her upright. Which was useful, as she felt the entire hall move.

There was a rise of murmurs as some of the stone flowed away from the walls and revealed two large, circular holes in the opposing walls. Outside, Mary saw waves of sand flowing backwards at a very decent speed. She rose to her tiptoes and spotted large platforms just beneath the openings, already heating up in the merciless sun.

Now that Mary thought about it, she should have asked a whole lot more questions about the battle plan. Like, how exactly was she supposed to deliver the muffin to the Chapel through quite possibly a warzone, how were they going to fight, and so on. Unfortunately, it seemed a bit late for that now. Well, next time she'd-

No. No next times.

Yeah, right...

It took them two hours before they could see the overgrown walls. And the spikes.

The walls were decorated with hundreds of writhing parts of unfortunate creatures slain next to those accursed grounds. The closer they got, the more Mary could see - tentacles wiggling like unearthed worms, occasionally slamming the sands below, twitching eyes embedded in unmoving skulls, machines spasming with occasional rocket salvo... it was way worse than Mary remembered. She was glad that she lost the impulse to throw up, or it wouldn't be pretty in their vehicle either.

Well, actually, it wasn't - a lot of others didn't have the dubious pleasure of unlife. A look at her friends didn't tell her much - Hans had little facial expressions she could recognise due to the lack of face, Margaret's helmet had its faceplate down, and Paolo... he didn't need any openings in his bloody creation, but Mary could almost feel his tension in the air. And Mossie was still Mossie, though it did fly in a rather irregular, janky way.

“On to the platforms!” Arthur commanded. “Do not engage without my command. The first strike has to come from our... distinguished allies.”

“Mary,” he added in a more casual voice, which she somehow heard despite all the commotion.

The girl stayed, unsure how to answer the questioning glances of her team. Eventually, they got bored looking at her in what appeared to pass for silence and moved toward the back of the right platform. “What?”

“The muffin,” Arthur said, lifting the dome. “Remember, this is all that counts. Get it to the Chapel, no matter the cost.”

She rolled her eyes. “I get it, really. I got it the first time. And the second time. And-”

Arthur sighed. “No, you didn't. Let's just hope it'll be enough.” He gestured for her to take the glorified pastry. “Good luck.”

Mary took the thing and rejoined her friends, wondering if the world would screw her over this time. She had a strange feeling that it wasn't really a matter of if, and more like how.