One side of the diner was all booths for close friends, the other was small loose tables for loving couples. Down the center were long tables, made to seat the many workers of the town, their tops shined in the warm lights, photos of miners and smities lacquered into the surface. The Rider threw himself longways into a booth, setting his spear casually against the wall, which clanged on a hanging brass serving platter. Water seeped into Angelina's skin as she sat at a center table, eyes affixed on the tape player before her. The Guardian, who had to slouch to keep from hitting the rafters above him, tried his weight on a chair meant for humans. The woodwork of it creaked, his full mass would turn it to splinters.

Whittaker swirled his hand in front of him, fingers lighting up with sigils of spiked vines. His diadem glowed as well, speaking a prayer of enchantment for the chair. The wood stiffened, tugged tighter at its joints. Mumbling a thanks, the Guardian sat down as the Paladin bowed his head, the magic fading from him.

Gregore popped his helmet off, setting it on his lap. There were wards to keep his head dry, and he bore the most annoyed look. "I don't like this, not a single bit," he said, his voice carrying across the long interior.

The Captain gestured at the bright kitchen at the back. "How big do you want your coffee sir? Our cook could whip something up," he offered.

"Have you got any beer?" Gregore asked.

"Fucking play the thing!" the Pirate snapped.

"I should crush it right now," the giant replied. "Listening to it will give the wretch what she wants, and you're plenty pissed now, Angelina." He looked back at the Ranger, who was perched on a booth behind the Rider. "You want to throw this in the hurricane?"

The elf sat silent.

The mermaid fumbled with the large radio, pressing at the buttons.

Diana, who had yet to sit anywhere with Jonah, wondered if the woman kept the ship's original engines because she was actually afraid of machinery beyond the earliest kinds. She noticed that Jonah was also trying to figure out the boxy machine from afar. Audio chirped on, then rewound, then stopped as the Pirate slapped at it. If it wasn't for the fact it held a monster's voice, it might have been funny. The Hero was acting so much like a child it was instead pathetic.

Whittaker was reaching for it, but the Pirate was paying no attention to him. Gregore yanked it from the mermaid's hands and gave it to the Paladin. The man expertly clicked the buttons and then hit play, setting it back down.

"Hahahahahaha!" came a childish voice on the tape. All the grumbling and sound cut out of the room. "Ah… hmmm… if you're hearing this Angie, I've done it, I've tricked you again. Oh, if only I could see your face…" The squeakiness of the legendary Ash Maker was disturbing. It grated on Diana's ears, so shrill, especially through the crackling of the tape. "What, did you get bored waiting for me to come back? I’m so glad you’re still around, it’s just like old times! I’ve been catching up since I rose…" There was a whining sound, like the spinning of a chair. "I heard about your victory tour, all of you, parading around like you were fucking gods! Hahahaha!" The woman clutched at whatever was recording her. "All those girls wishing to lick Angie’s fishy bits! All those girls split wide by Greggy’s horse dick! Someone willing to fuck that hairy muskrat! Oh, you must have been living the high life for generations! All those other Killers went back to their families, half of them bred like bunnies! I mean, the world had to repopulate after I leveled half of the fucking place!” There were a couple quick thuds and a creak of springs. “You should be thanking me! Half your cities look so much better now, after I burned them to rubble. You don’t have to keep dying on ships and travel for months to get somewhere! It’s like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to this world. Yet you still hunt my kind and go after me. We just wanna live peacefully…” She had a sickeningly sweet sound to her voice in the last line, followed by a piercing giggle. All the Heroes glared at the device, save Ryul, who had yet to look at it.

There was a loud slap on a metal surface that made Diana and Jonah jump.

“Then you find a couple coats and wave them around like you won the war again!!” Blodwyn shrieked. “Have you talked to Rowoak again? Did they ask you where the coats went? I took them…"

Angelina shivered, eyes wide.

"We snuck in and we took them. I'm one step ahead of you, of all of you!" The childish laughter filled the room again. "You haven't even seen a fucking Ash Maker in years! Not you, not your little pets! Good luck with finding any of us! We're everywhere! Not even your little hounds could track me!"

Diana's blood went cold, recalling the clear undead scent on the ship.

"How are they doing, by the way? Huh, Greggy, you huge fucker, getting long in the tooth? You too Ozzy boy? I was stuck for a long while and you two are just the same. Wait, who else was with her?" The monster paused.

Gregore and Ozwalt stared at the player with fury in their eyes. Something more seemed to be there, something unnatural. Diana stepped back, uncertain what the horrible wretch was exactly saying in her mad babbling.

There was an indiscernible mumble on the tape. Gregore grabbed the player, putting it up to his ear. "Who was that?!" he roared. His fingers dented the metal.

Whittaker clicked the pause button. "We will send it to be analyzed, sir," he said calmly.

"Play it, play it," Angelina hissed quietly.

Blodwyn returned. "Ah, that's right! Fia the fucking Bitch!" she cried. "Never saw a child she couldn't scry and kill. The eye in the sky, coming to erase my people…" She leaned in. "If you can hear me, Fia, burning you at the stake won't be enough for me. I was stuck in that prison for two hundred years. I'll shove a rod up your ass, and see how long your 'Blessed' body takes to rot to fucking bones." She laughed into the recorder, the audio cracking, it took a while for her to settle down. "Ryul, Ryul, gods, if I can find you, then I'll take the rest of your bodily functions. Oh oh oh, I didn't threaten Angelina and her hounds! Well shit! Tape is almost out! Angelina, you know I'm gonna crucify you on the front of your fucking ship. Your hounds, well, you two have made it easy, all I have to do is catch you, like you caught me. You can survive a lot, Greggy and Ozzy. I’ve got an experiment for you two. I want to see if you can process liquid silver poured down your fucking throat…" The tape ended with a mocking cackle.

The Guardian put both hands on the radio. Effortlessly he closed them on the object. With a loud and fast crunching the device crumpled to pieces as it burst out from the center. His arm swept the chunks from the table, his armor goring up the wood. "You made no copies, Whittaker?" he asked, rising to his feet. His massive body obstructed a light, casting shadow on the Paladin before him.

"No sir, we did not," Whittaker said evenly.

"Smart man," the Guardian said. "There's no evidence for anything said on that tape."

"Yes, sir,” he said, a note of guilt in his voice.

The Guardian dusted his hands. "Well, we have royally fucked the engines of our ship, do you have mechanics to help ours? Our man is about to keel over."

"I will have them sent, sir," Whittaker said.

"Ozwalt, I'm acquiring some beer from this town, care to join me?" Gregore said with a pleased smile.

The Rider was rubbing his head. "Gods, I wished you destroyed the bloody thing in the first place, I can't stand the whore's voice," he groaned. In taking his spear, several pieces of metalwork on the wall clattered loudly to the floor. He made no attempt to replace them, kicking one as he walked out. The door slammed, nearly snapping on its hinges.

Screaming once more, Angelina rose, sending her chair flying backwards, crashing into the table behind it. "I'm going for a fucking swim!" she shouted, tugging at her shirt as she followed the Rider. The door hung loosely after her shoving it open.

As the giant made to slowly exit, pushing and ducking, Diana found her voice. "Is it true?" she asked quietly.

The Guardian's armor scraped loudly across the threshold of the diner door. "What is that?" he asked. "Nothing Blodwyn says is worth listening to."

"You destroyed it, something must be true," she countered.

The man stood to his full height, pushing at the rafter above his head. The solid wood cracked effortlessly. He gazed subdued down at her. "Come now, out with it, no one will believe you, but if you must know," he said, gesturing in annoyance.

"The 'hound', the 'silver'..." she said. "Are you? Are you what she said?" she whispered.

His eyes grew so fierce, affixed on a face that she had once considered gentle. The whole of his mighty chest expanded and the rafter he held snapped like a pitiful sapling. He sighed, terribly irritated by her and she shrank, but felt even smaller. Jonah, reasonably lost in it all, but still beside her, fought to keep her upright as her knees got weak.

The Guardian gripped his gauntlet and tore it off with a grand and destructive whip of his arm. The minor fling of his hand crumbled the wall, denting the metal works on it, and shook the building. From around the crater he had made, he plucked a silver teapot. When it made contact with his skin, steam hissed up from his palm. He threw it down, teeth bared from his massive bushel of a beard. "There, you see what we had to become to be Heroes," he growled. "We wouldn't have survived the hell of war without it…"

"A, a, a, c-c-cure…" Diana stammered. A hole had been punched through her being. In her mind all the heroics were stained in blood. The pages of history were worth nothing now.

Gregore merely scoffed. "Little princess, we would age to dust with a cure," he said, turning his eyes to the Paladin. "Your father already knows, and your grandfather would still be here if he joined us… don't make the mistake he did."

Whittaker's head was bowed, but he nodded. "Yes, sir," he said.

Then the Guardian looked at Jonah and just shook his head. With a wrecking ball movement the giant turned, ripping the finish of the walls and the door off its hinges. In the rain, he shouted, "Someone point me to the blasted bar!"

Diana lost her balance into a chair that had found its way behind her. She saw the Ranger there holding it, Jonah had done his best to keep her up, but there was no will left within her. The elf signed to her, and Jonah translated, "I'm sorry, he says, I'm sorry."

"Why?" Diana asked.

"I can't explain," The Ranger shook his head. In the downpour, he picked the door up and drove it back into the wall with a tap of his fingers. Then he bowed and vanished.

Acid came climbing up Diana's throat and the tears forming in her eyes started to trickle over. Everything had been drawn tight and now it was finally released. She couldn't sit still, she couldn't be in front of Jonah, this Whittaker. Anyone, at all.

She didn't want to be anything right now, she wanted to curl up and die. She envied her sister, because she didn't have to know what she knew now. Aiko helped her, listened to her finally, grabbing her bracer in its teeth, it led her towards the bathroom. Her legs moved so clumsily and she pushed through the door with her body alone. Vaguely she heard Jonah calling after her, asking if she needed anything. By the time his question was done, she had emptied her stomach of bile and the deluge of tears had begun. Coughing from an acid burned throat, she drove the heels of her palms into her eyes. She couldn't, it didn't matter what she knew, she couldn't. Stop it. Stop it!

Aiko took a place against the door, and lowered its head, blocking the entrance. It sent her more sorrow, disdain for its job. The tiger didn't want to guard anymore. It didn’t want her to be alone.

Two of the Heroes were monsters. They lived off the bodies of the living, which fed them. They were perversions of the natural order. It was a Druid’s duty to kill them when the beasts eventually went feral. The voice of Blodwyn, with all its threats, had revealed the truth.