It was the middle of the night, and Russula was woken up with a bang.

Loud noises were pounding through the hallway. People were screaming. And her symbiote, Polistes, was screaming at her. “Get up!”

“I’m getting up.” Russula rolled out of bed, her blanket falling to the floor. No time to fix it up. Where was the celery? She fumbled blindly in the dark, knocking over some of her bedside decorations before finding the container. She jammed the celery stalks in her mouth and ate them as she began her transformation. The pale white chrysalis snaked its way up her legs, falling away to leave only her shining bronze Imago. She finished the celery just before the transformation made its way over her head. Would it be enough? Maybe she should’ve eaten more last night. “What’s going on?”

“Attack.”

Of course. Russula could already feel the presence of the enemies outside. She needed to get out. She needed to help. Her transformation complete, she drew her spear and stepped out into the hallway.

She nearly regretted the decision. The floor was a few down from the top, and yet the hallway was completely overrun with Echoes. A thick haze of sand filled the air, some kicked up from the ground and some pouring down from the ceiling. Some Angels were running, but others had gathered themselves and their Imagos to set up a line of defence.

“I’m here,” she said, approaching the group.

“Russula.” Her name was echoed several times by the others to confirm just who was joining them. There were maybe four or five Angels here in the hallway. One or two were clearly beetles: a firefly beetle and some sort of scarab. And thankfully they were there; the Echoes here were ferocious and violent as ever. Frustrated by their inability to run free, they bit and tore at the tough carapaces, ripping off chunks as the Angels behind them helped pick them off. Before the line, the shattered fragments of the fallen Echoes lay piled up on the tiles.

“How are things?” Russula asked.

“We’re holding alright,” said Grace, who was leading the bunch. Her ghostly translucent Imago was somewhat unnerving to Russula, but she knew that Grace was someone trustworthy. Someone who knew a lot. And thankfully, someone who could take charge in a situation such as this. “We’re waiting for news from any of the Archangels. For now, I think we’re good, but...”

“But what?”

“Well, I just hope that there haven’t been any other incursions,” Grace said. “Or we might be here for a long time. And I mean... we may be Angels, but we can only last so long before...”

“Don’t think about that,” said Russula. “By the way,” she said, “Have any of you seen Melody?”

They all looked at her with puzzled expressions. Not good, not good. Melody... though she took charge when they were all together, Russula knew that deep down, that girl had no idea what she was doing. She was probably scared and alone and...

“Sorry. I need to go after her.”

A few of the others reached out to protest, but Grace stopped them and simply nodded. “Go for it.”

Russula helt the muscles in her chest tightening. Her thorax began to thrum, the plates sliding back and forth, her wings unfolding and humming rapidly as she took off and started down the hall. Beyond the line, the hallways were in further disarray. Bedroom doors lay wide open, some of them cracked and smashed open. Echoed rats and shrews scurried across the floor and into the crevices. Angels hurried out of their rooms, in various states of transformation. Russula was glad to have been fortunate enough to be behind the narrow passage where her classmates had set up the barricade, but only grew more worried for her friend. Please, let the door be closed.

The door was open.

Russula burst into the room. The blankets were all torn up, smouldering still from the passage of some Echo in the room. Melody was nowhere to be seen. But there were no signs of a struggle or a fight. She was fine. She was out... somewhere. She had to be. “Melody!” Russula shouted.

“Quiet!” her symbiote hissed.

Though she hadn’t found her friend, she’d garnered the attention of an Echo of her own. The creature was the size of a wolf, perhaps, and built somewhere between a large dog and a big cat. The creature glowed orange, with a thick coat of thin, shard-like fur. It growled, baring a mouth full of shearing iron teeth with polished edges, as if they’d been sharpened.

And it was on a leash.

“Looking for your friend?” said a voice. A Demon, surely. But as she stepped into view, there was no uncanny human-shaped being wearing mail armour. Instead, there was only a lady there. She looked middle-aged, with smooth black hair tied up in a bun, with bizarre black-and-red goggles that covered her eyes. She wore a simple white button-down shirt and khakis, and had a powder-blue bandana tied around her shoulders, with a blood-red thunderbolt painted on it. She seemed completely comfortable with the iron leash and chain she held, holding the enormous Echo back, not fearful whatsoever. Neither did she seem afraid of Russula, despite her currently state of being a six-foot tall, six-legged Imago, hovering just above the floor. The Echo pulled against the chain, and the metal seemed to bend. “Shh... stay calm,” the lady said. “We already have one. We don’t need another.”

“Where is she?” said Russula. She pointed her spear at the woman. That lady may have been just a human, but she was clearly involved with their demonic adversaries. Still, Russula had no intention of actually harming her. Probably.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said. There was something familiar about this woman. Like Russula had seen her before. But where? “I can show you, though.”

“Don’t play games with me.”

“Or what?” Russula said nothing. “I thought as much. Well, then? You want me to take you to your little friend?”

“Fine.”

The woman smiled, tugging on the leash and tapping the button on the side of her goggles a few times over. The Echo obeyed her and stepped out of the doorway, making room for Russula. It obeyed her?

“But she isn’t a Demon!” whispered Russula.

Polistes landed discreetly on Russula’s nape as she headed out the door. “Good of you to follow her.”

“Just who is she?”

“It’s unclear. We didn’t realize just how much the Demons were working with Blood Thunder. Certainly not to the extent that they would allow a human to control an Echo... but continue following her and we’ll gain useful information.”

Russula nodded. The lady was unprotected, now. Her back was turned. She had the opportunity to... to kill her. Part of her wanted to do it, but that would be less valuable than learning from her alive. And could she really kill another human being? That was...

“There she is,” said the lady.

There she was indeed. Her honeybee Imago was tarnished, bits of sand and pebbles caught up in the fur. Her arms and legs were bound, and a sack was over her head. Despite everything, she seemed relatively calm. There wasn’t much else to do in such a situation, she supposed.

“Well, are you going to kill me now?” the lady said. She was completely calm, her back still turned to Russula. She must have had an ace up her sleeve. Russula’s mind was racing now. There was only that lady and the Echo. Surely there was a way to get Melody out of here safely. She gripped the handle of her spear.

And the lady’s gaze immediately swivelled to her.

Freaky. That lady was definitely not normal. Or maybe it was just the goggles she was wearing. She got the impression that any full-on attack wouldn’t work. Either the lady would defend herself, or attack Melody. Neither was a good result. Could there be a way to distract her instead? “Polistes,” she whispered, “How well have I been eating?”

“You’ve got a little bit,” her symbiote responded.

Russula slowly twirled the tip of her spear. Along the edge of the tip, a thin strip of paper peeked out. Okay. This could work. That celery from earlier would have to go a long way, but this was definitely possible. The lady was expecting a full-on attack, and Russula wouldn’t be giving her one. But a distraction, on the other hand...

Russula leapt forward, thrusting her spear near, but not at, the woman’s head. The lady stepped out of the way, and that was exactly what Russula had wanted. A sheet of paper spread like a ribbon behind her spear, uneven patches of parchment that flapped in the air and separated her from her enemy. She wasted no time, grabbing Melody and taking off down the hallway.

The paper was thin, and the Echo’s sharpened teeth easily tore through it, singed edges burning all down the length of the sheet. The lady made chase, mounting the creature as it bounded across the tiles leaving scorched footprints and sparks in its wake. Russula still had an advantage in speed, though. She swerved and twisted through the halls, careful to avoid the more feral Echoes as she passed. Though cradling Melody with one pair of arms, she used the other to cut through the bindings, bladed fingers untangling the ropes and removing the bag from her head. “Russula,” she said. Beneath the bag, her head hadn’t been transformed. She’d been crying and was a little bruised, but was overall fine. Thank goodness. Russula hurried down to where the barricade had been.

And it was gone.

The overturned tables and pillows were smouldering, the clear signs of a struggle. Bits of strewn Echoes were scattered on the ground, dismembered limbs and twitching tails. And... larger dismembered limbs as well. Torn-off wings and broken carapaces, that had been sliced. Russula set her Melody down and drew her weapon. “Hide,” she said.

“I’m not going to—"”

“Don’t pretend to be strong, okay? Hide!” She shoved Melody into an alcove just as footsteps headed down the hallway. A lot more than just that lady. As the dust cleared, a large band of people, all wearing that same bandana, stood in front of her. The lady was at the back, waving at her as she turned and disappeared down the hall. The rest of the people started towards her. They had pipes and bats and... swords? In the back, some brandished bows or even handguns. “What are my odds?” she whispered.

“Not good.”

“Even if I hurt them?”

“Those are the least of your worries.”

***

The rest had been a blur and a nightmare. Tied up. Carried off. Up to the classroom? A Demon. Had Miriam come and fought Dawn? It didn’t matter. The Echoes and people had grabbed her and dragged her out of the classroom. Quinn had tried valiantly to reach her in time, but she’d failed. Russula was alone. Almost. “What now?” she whispered, as softly as possible.

“Remain quiet,” Polistes replied. “Whatever you see or hear or feel is useful information.”

“If I get through this.” A noise. Helicopter blades were turning. They were lifting off. Where to? They’d blindfolded her now, and tied her up. There was little she could do but listen. So listen she did.

“I’m telling you, it stopped and helped me.”

“D-don’t be silly.” Two girls were sitting nearby and appeared to be having some sort of... argument? “They’re not even human. They repeat these words and phrases like a Chinese room. They don’t understand the meaning. They just know it has an effect.”

“It turned into a human before my eyes,” the second girl said. “Or at least, its hands did. And it fixed my wrist. It even apologized to me”

“Your wrist wasn’t fixed at all.” At best, it’s slightly less painful now than it was before. We still need to get it checked out.

“It was trying to help. That’s all.”

“Come on, Danika. Stop fooling around.”

“Rocky! I’m telling the truth! You think I’d fool around with this? Look at this stick. It’s clearly not... not something that’d just be lying around. I rushed the creature myself. It broke my wrist. And then it... it...”

“Stop doing that! You’ll hurt your wrist even more.”

Footsteps. “Enough.” said a third voice. The lady. “What was this creature? Can you describe it again?” The girl did, and Russula felt something shake the cabin. After a few moments of silence, the lady spoke again. “I see. So that’s what my daughter’s been up to.”

Daughter?