“It’s magically enhanced.” Moses whispered to Anthony, as he returned to position.

“I still think we should get out of here before it’s too late. I’m telling you, the tunnels below the Citadel are perfectly safe.” Susan huffed, as she slid into a sitting position, her spear long since abandoned on the cold stone floor of the watchtower they’ve been hiding in.

Moses hushed her once again. It was clear he was hearing something no one else was, and not just because he was a rabbit.

Several long minutes passed in absolute silence. The trio exchanged a few wary looks now and then, but no one dared to speak. The two men, one rabbit, the other human, were still on guard, their weapons, knuckle-claws and a linstock respectively, ready. Susan did end up reaching her palmed hand and grabbing her spear, ‘just for good measure as she told herself.

Just as they’d thought the danger had come to pass, Moses turned towards the group, and gestured for them to get in position.

Susan quickly readjusted her glasses over her furry face, and took place on one side of the empty door frame which separated their tower from the stone staircase leading into it, while Anthony pressed his back against the other wall.

Moses stood still in the centre, ready to act as a distraction to the enemy whose footsteps everyone could hear now.

These footsteps stopped before the enemy, no doubt a member of the Doc B Clan, came into view.

“We know you’re down there, bastard, so come up here and die like a man!” Moses poked his linstock into the airspace before him, which didn’t impress either of the people who could actually see him.

“I ss-ss-surrender.” A stammering male voice came from down the stairway. “I-I – I need your help.”

“Oh, that’s grand.” Susan scoffed, apparently loud enough to warrant a wine from the still-concealed enemy.

Seeing how this wasn’t going anywhere, and that the only way out of the tower was now blocked, Anthony intervened:

“We can’t promise anything, but if you come up here and surrender your weapon, we can talk.”

Slow footsteps travelled up the staircase, and soon the trio was faced with a low-ranking member of the Doc B Clan. The cultist, for as much as clan members had tried to rebrand themselves as a family-like circle of benevolent ‘helping hands’, they had not succeeded in straying away from their bloodthirsty ‘knife in your back’ history, pushed his magic staff towards the group with a swift wing motion. He was a large duck, the size of a human child, wearing a fitted shapka with an embroidered “C” on it, representing his rank.

“Can we – can we negiciat-t-te now?” He asked, his stammering seemingly not going away.

Moses kicked the staff towards Susan, and while pointing his weapon at the duck, ordered:

“Speak.”

“Phew,” The duck let a heavy breath. “I was- was so cert-t-taint that you’d would kill m-me.”

The duck glanced at the tried, but none of them said a word, still waiting for an explanation on this strange situation.

“My name- umm, name is Mike.” The duck continued, “I was sent by- by the -the head of market -marketing depart-te-ment. They need-d your help-p with re-rebranding.”

“I bed your pardon?” Susan intervened. This was all starting to sound like some kind of bad joke, and she was regretting not insisting more on running away when they had the chance. “You’re telling us you chased us halfway across Greendale because you wanted our help? I’m not buying that.”

She slammed her spear on the ground in outrage, causing Mike to take a small step back.

“N-no. I am-am sincere. We need-” He turned towards Anthony with a pleading expression.

“You need a human to convince the public that you are no longer an evil cult!” Moses scoffed once he got where Mike was going.

“Sect, not cult.” Susan correct him, not because she thought he was wrong, but because now that the tension had dropped, she allowed more of her personality to slip through.

“A cl-clan. We are a clan.” Mike corrected them both. “But you are- you are correct. We do need the PR.”

“There is no way my son is going anywhere and saying anything for you lot! You tried to kill us not even an hour ago! You forced us to flee inside a crumbling magic tower, you-” Moses was interrupted by Anthony putting a hand over his shoulder, to calm him down.

The boy was more than able to talk, and decide for himself. And, much like Susan, he had realised that this one clan member was no longer a threat, not only because of his rank, or the fact that his magic staff, aka his only means of defence, was laying several meters behind Moses, but also because Mike had a trustworthy face (beak, head, whatever it was that ducks had. Despite having lived in Greendale for most of his life, Anthony was still not used to describing animal anatomy).

“He isn’t your son, we’ve been over this.” Susan reprimanded the rabbit as she rested her weapon against the wall.

“I will speak with your leader.” Anthony said before anyone else had had the time to interrupt him. “But with your leader only. I know how cunning your mages can get, so I want them to be at least 30 feet away at all times.”

“Of cour-course.” Mike nodded. It seemed as if a spark of life had returned to his eyes. “I will inform the the head - head of the market-ting department right away!”