Night fell. Officers huddled in the camps and exposed themselves to the threat of night for the thrill of transgression, or else congregated in the barn to participate in an impromptu elementercise session led by a rotating set of acknowledged masters such as Reginald, Luau Lua, and Reginald backed by a new recording. Lights from lanterns and lamps with orange and yellow shades and bulbs increased the spookiness quotient while decreasing the darkness index across the festival grounds.

One officer, however, braved the darkness and stepped out of the light, into the night, and back into the light. A different light though, that of the storage shed closest to the hill. Quille Treten flung open the doors and strode in, spun around when the doors banged off the outside walls, and pulled them back together while hoping nobody heard. That done, he took stock of the job before him.

“A mess among messes,” he muttered as he considered the pile. Horseshoes leaned against axles, chunks of anchors and scales from dragons both organic and manufactured rested on lengths of cloth and tangles of nets studded with monstrous eyes. The glow of elemental Slivers, Chunks, and Orbs highlighted the mass in five ever-shifting colors. On the top sat a single amulet.

“Careless, very careless. I'll just toss that in the proper storehouse to start the job off. A bit of an opening ceremony. Eh?” The floorboards rattled and the five mingled colors swirled. A sound rose and fell that might have been a moan or might have been the wind, both common phenomena inside storehouses. “Bit drafty in here. Some hard work will see it warm soon enough. Ho ho ho!”

Quille climbed the mountain of materials and lifted the misplaced piece of equipment. The pile quavered and cost him his footing, and as he fell he saw the five mingled colors all turn to red and heard crashing and rumbling all around him. The walls shook. Roof tiles plummeted to the floor and shattered as the ceiling twisted. Quille stood, stroked his beard, said, “Deuced odd,” and was seized by an invisible force that raised him into the air and suspended him there between the trembling ground and newly exposed sky.

The light cycled through the elemental colors before shifting to an unaffiliated purple. The rumbling resolved itself into a voice that announced, “The Imperia Amulet is mine. Everything else in this world is yours. Take your pleasure from it now, for the end of all is come. I am Imus Terminus, the genius of annihilation.” The jumble of materials rose off the floor and shaped itself into a pulsating grape ball that drew Quille Treten toward it amulet-first. Eldritch influence pulled his arm straight and yanked the Imperia Amulet out of his reluctant fingers, afterwards hurling him past the crumbling walls.

The storehouse built with so much care over so many officer-hours collapsed, and in its place loomed a giant, pale purple face and two house-sized hands emerging from roiling storm clouds which attracted some attention.

“Rumors are always true! Cadmos, what's your opinion on glitches that lead to a palette-swapped Artificial God ruining our new Armory?”

“Uh, that's a great question, but I really don't think this is the time for it.” Cadmos readied his sword. “Grab your weapon, Lasva. That monster can't be allowed to spoil the festival all our friends worked so hard to prepare.”

“Right, on it. Oh! Gaelvry Brideuvo! Do you think Part Three will include regular enemies with the Artificial God model?”

“Out of the way!”

Officers rushed to confront the novel enemy, hopping over chairs between them and the storehouse and stomping any Rare Inferno Champions on the path into the ground. Swords, bows, lenses, and guitars were unsheathed and unslung. The air flashed with lightning and fire, and resounded with yells and drum solos.

“Nothing that lives can stand against Imus Terminus,” their foe informed them.

“Imus? A genius! Can we equip it?” Swords, bows, lenses, and guitars were sheathed and slung as officers raced to get closer and stuff the newest glitch into their equipment slots.

“It's not even giving me an error. It just won't let me.”

“Try harder!”

“Stop trying and let me do it!”

Officers leapt to plant themselves like lampreys on the floating face and hands in case that would accomplish something besides make them look silly, which it did. It made Imus Terminus look silly. The final genius roared and gathered its uncanny powers to blow all the clingers back and send them rolling along the earth. “Annihilation is inevitable,” it proclaimed, and fired purple blasts from its palms up and down the field.

“I think we should take this a little more seriously,” Cadmos shouted.

“Naw, it's fine. Let 'em have their fun.”

“It's nothing but a hoot and a little hollering to go with it.”

“I'm seriously trying to equip it!”

“I'm inclined to agree with Cadmos,” Hilliarde Feablas announced while summoning his irresistible attack orb into being.

“Straighten up boys, play time's over.”

“Having a bit of an emergency, are we? Well, well, well.”

“What was I training for, if not this?”

The swords and such came out again. All the officers of Commandment of Hero filled the air together with their cries that sounded something like “Flanzerimous Stradsh!” repeated endlessly and with skill effects that combined into something that would require a warning if aired on television. Almost all the officers, that is.

“Where'd Burmin go? Quick Howling!”

“How can you even tell who is and isn't here?”

“Do you see anyone here who basically looks like an enemy from Part 1, Clyse?”

“That's a good point.” She leaned back and surveyed the battlefield. “I don't see him anywhere, I'm afraid.”

“No big loss. Hey! What's with this thing's health!”

The blades and blows of the officers took their toll on Imus Terminus, but it got a complete rebate on that toll via rapid HP regeneration capable even of restoring lifebars. It persisted in healing itself even when Surfs Nesetta and Beans Istemus complained that was the boss's thing and it should come up with its own gimmick.

“Boss! This guy ain't listening to reason! He's giving our arguments short shrift!”

“Genii aren't like numbers, Beans,” Nonneros explained. “They got their own feelings and priorities, see? So you gotta trample those first.”

“Got it, boss!”

When it came to trampling, the officers had the advantage of feet, but their vertical inferiority and size difference obviated that. Imus Terminus made use of its upper feet that some call hands to smash them into the hard earth. As effective as that proved to be as a substitute for the real thing, fifteen Medics could heal a lot of boo-boos, and so could thirteen real Medics and two lazy Rares. Both negotiations and violence stalled.

“There must be something we can do!” Cadmos yelled.

“What exactly makes you think so?” Kint N. Bredle asked.

“He just says things.”

“I suspected as much.”

“He does not! I mean, he does, but not in a bad way like you're saying! Or inferring! Who said that?”

“He was implying it, and do calm down, Gaelvry. He said nothing objectionable, even if he appears to be from Dovesk.”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“That must be the Doveskan national anthem. The skill of the lyricist is revealed in his mindfulness of the breadth of the intended audience's vocabulary.”

“Come to think of it, I hate Beruvians more than genii. I don't hate genii at all in fact. Prepare yourself, Aerywe Beruvo.”

“You tell her, Master Eten!” Skaya raised her fists in preparation for an international incident.

“Stop! This is madness!” Cadmos implored. “Only our bonds as friends, as allies will see us through!”

“I want to see you shove your allies . . . allies. Allies!” Gears turned and pistons began to pump in Ulrik's steam-powered brain. “Fellow Doveskans!”

“Who are you?”

“Fellow Doveskans other than Skaya! Who is now on a list! Non-Doveskans too! We have to act as allies. As allies, we should combine our powers to shred his health before it regenerates, alliance-fashion. It may work. It probably won't! But know that whatever happens, I definitely, absolutely, without a doubt consider all of you my allies.”

“I think of you as my ally too, Ulrik.”

“Shut up, Cadmos.”

“That silver is right! Cadmos really should shut up. Maybe his other ideas are just as good.” The heated battle raised the crowd's temperature to Inferno levels and prepared them to hear out Inferno ideas. “Give us a viable approach!”

“Allies! Here it is. Don't Nova. I know what a hardship that is. I do. Hold onto it for just a minute. Then we all Nova together and one-shot it. We need everyone to participate. Even you over there.”