There was, in stark contrast to the Outer World of Londoa, no Autumn's night shortening in Scuttleway. The Inner Sun crested high in the sky, looped across Moadma Landmass, and darkened as it reached the other side, to begin the journey again. It did this irrespective of Londoa's tilt to its sun, irrespective of the Outer World's natural laws. Up and down. The same time, each morning. It dimmed, the same time, each night.

As it had for hundreds of years.

Joseph had been able to see evidence of this first hand on his daily jogs. He had taken to running in the evenings, now that it had gotten cooler. Just before the Inner Sun burned out, as the sky over Scuttleway became an orange-bronze, he would head out of Castle Belenus and run. To clear his head, after the last couple of weeks. His journey would take him through the markets, through the neighborhoods of the upper class districts, and towards the ravine that divided Scuttleway in half. When he jogged by the docks, dodging past sailors as they turned into their usual bars and dives for the night, he would occasionally glance down into the depths below.

In Summer, the end of the ravine would be the hue of sunset, a straight, falling path to the Outer World.

Now, however, it was pitch black. Night had already overtaken the Outer World, and it filtered through the ravine as though it had a bottom.

Sometimes, Joseph could imagine himself falling in. It sent a chill up his spine.

He would ignore that, and continue on, jogging along the edge of the ravine, listening to the sounds of the city as it wound into its usual nightlife. He stopped for a moment, looking out for a few minutes, chewing the inside of his cheek. A ship was cresting in, bone-white like an elephant's tusk. The Gil-Galad. Sunala's ship.

She had been busy, as of late. Bringing in more Elven retainers, Rosemary said. For the election. For their organization, the Verdant Reclamation.

After her and Joseph's argument at InterGuild, she almost whispered when she talked about Sunala now. Much of the allure and awe she had for the noblewoman had drained away.

And yet, time and time again, Sunala called on Rosemary, signed her up to be her assistant. Each and every time, Rosemary was allowed to go.

More and more, she looked uncomfortable.

It was almost time to head home, now. Joseph watched as the Gil-Galad docked, and elves began unloading crates, each one emblazoned with the symbol of House Sunala.

After watching them for a time, he started back. He wished he had music to listen to on nights like these. The chill air had a hint of loneliness to it. At least back in San Francisco, or Seattle...

Earth.

At least then he had his artists. To relax to. To calm himself with. He had considered asking G-Wiz to hook him up with a music player of some sort. Anything, really.

Music helped him stave away the sense of isolation he had been feeling with the onset of cold weather.

He arrived back at Castle Belenus. He opened up the door.

Standing at the entrance was Tek. Joseph's heart fell.

“Hey, Tek,” he said.

The mound glanced over at him. Glanced away. Shouldered him as he went past into the city. To go to the Welt, presumably. He had taken to drinking there, considering Becenti's banning of alcohol in the guildhall.

A stab of guilt hit him. He walked inside.

There were a few other guildmembers inside. Mekke. Lazuli. Elenry.

Mekke gave him a curt nod. Lazuli flipped him off.

He rolled his eyes at the android, and walked to the dining hall, grabbing at one of the floating dishes with tonight's meal. Chicken soup, by the looks of it, with a couple of slices of toast. A few of the other guildmembers were already eating. Broon and Ezel were talking to one another about some job or other. XLS was going over a few diagrams with Barbara. The toucan glanced up as Joseph walked in. Her eyes narrowed, in the same manner as when Joseph had first joined the guild.

No surprise. She was one of Tek's close friends. As was Calacious Nine, who, in the corner of the room, turned bright red upon sensing Joseph. The jellyfish rose up from where they had been sitting with Gluh and drifted out of the room in a hurry.

Phineas and Meleko were at one of the tables, their empty dishes pushed to the side, a field of Myth Battle cards between them. Meleko was scratching at his chin. Phineas was nervously shuffling his hand, over and over and over.

Joseph walked over to them.

“Hey, Phin.”

“Ah, Joseph,” the Deep One said, playing a card down, “Many here are angry at you.”

Joseph winced.

“Yeah,” he said.

“It was rather stupid of you, to turn coat on Tek like that,” Phineas said.

“I know,” Joseph replied.

“And all of it for nothing,” Phineas said.

“You going to let me sit down, Phin? Or are you just going to rag at me while I stand?”

The Deep One's great, globular eyes fixed on him. They sat on him for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Just let the guy sit, Phin,” Meleko said, “And finish up your turn.”

“Oh, yes,” Phineas said, “The game.”

He gestured.

“Sit, Joseph. Please.”

Joseph sat down, though he kept himself a bit of a ways away from his two guildmates, watching as Phineas finished his turn.

“Dakos strikes Emhammer,” the Deep One said, “Another of your pantheon gone.”

“Hell,” Meleko grunted.

“Hell is not in play,” Phineas rasped.

“Figure of speech.”

“Ah.”

Joseph swirled his soup, spooning some in his mouth. Far too watery – Ezel must have been on cooking duty tonight. The toast was burned. He took a bite of the bread, feeling it crunch uncomfortably as he chewed, the ashen taste of burnt food swimming in his mouth.

He swallowed.

Turned to watch the game.

Noticed that Phineas was looking at him again.

“Hey, Phin,” he said.

“Hello, Joseph.”

“What's up?”

“Nothing,” Phineas said, scratching at a scale, “I am just wondering about you.”

He felt a twinge of annoyance.

“Alright,” he said, “Well, I'm an open book. What do you want?”

“He's wondering why you had to turn on Tek like that,” Meleko said, drawing a card, “He's been talking about it all day.”

“Great,” Joseph said. He let out a weary sigh, and was quiet for a second to collect his thoughts, “To be honest, I don't know.”

“Yet you did anyways?”

“...I suppose I did,” Joseph said.

“Did you apologize?”

“Trust me, I've tried,” Joseph said, “But he's giving me the cold shoulder.”

“Not surprising,” Phineas said, “He was very excited about that engine. I hear that Professor Adesanya found another colleague to work on it with him, instead.”

“And now half the guild's pissed off at me.”

“It was his big break, from what I hear. Something he had been working on for several years, was one of the largest projects he’d ever been on. All of that work, down the drain, and-”

“Cut it out, Phin,” Joseph growled.

Phineas stopped. Blinked. Meleko coughed awkwardly.

“Can't blame 'em,” the Jugdran said. He placed a card down, moved a card depicting a gray-skinned man with six arms into place, “Okuta Stone-and-Sky. I'm going to eat your Redeemer.”

“Bad time,” Phineas said, and his voice was a pitch higher than normal, “Not cool, having him in a set.”

He was looking down at the card of Okuta Stone-and-Sky. Meleko shrugged.

“War was thirty years ago,” he said, “We have one of Dakos.”

“I... I suppose,” Phineas said. He could only watch as Meleko placed Okuta Stone-and-Sky over Redeemer.

“Anyways, Joe,” Meleko said, “You kind of shot yourself in the foot.”

“I know,” Joseph said.

Phineas was nodding in agreement.

“He is right. Being in a guild, you are only as good as your word-”

“I know, Phin,” Joseph said, “Can you just drop it? If I wanted to hear all about InterGuild and Tek, I'd sit with Laz.”

“Like he'd let you sit,” Meleko said.

“Hmm,” Joseph said. He took another bite of his bread.

Meleko finished his turn. Phineas drew a card. He considered it for a few moments.

Then tossed it to Joseph. He looked down. Hermes greeted him, the image of the god with winged feet smiling up at him.

“You still have your copy?” Phineas asked.

“Yeah,” Joseph said, “You've seen it. I keep it on my desk.”

“That is good, it means you haven't forgotten,” Phineas said.

“That I'm from Earth?”

“That I gave it to you,” the Deep One said.

Joseph blinked at that, pondering what Phineas meant. He stirred his soup. Meleko stretched for a moment, watching Phineas play out his turn. The Jugdran glanced at Joseph.

“Don't worry, you know,” he said, “About Tek. Things'll simmer down. Sometimes... Sometimes you just gotta look out for yourself, you know? People'll realize that.”

“I hope,” Joseph said.

“If not, hey,” Meleko said, and he drew a card to start his turn, “There's always other guilds, right?”

“Always others...” Joseph looked down at his soup.

The thought had not occurred to him. Not until this moment. He was not the same person he had been eight months ago. He had changed. Gotten experience. Fought harder than he'd ever had to in his life. He was a man of the multiverse now, wasn't he?

So why didn't he just... leave?

“Joseph,” Phineas said.

“Hmm?”

“I flicked my card dramatically to you. Can I have it back?”

“Oh,” Joseph looked down. Hermes. The God of Messengers. Traveler's Patron. Perhaps that was a message from Phineas, too. Joseph picked it up and handed it back to the Deep One, “Here.”

***

Joseph finished up his dinner, taking care of his dishes, along with Meleko's and Phineas's, bringing them into the kitchen. The Deep One had been on cleaning duty, though his magic was already doing the work for him, the plates drying themselves, soap bubbles erupting from the sinks unbidden, washing over dirty bowls and silverware like rogue waves. Joseph just had to toss the dishes into the air, before whatever spell that had been cast picked them up and added them to the network.

That done, he walked up the stairs, heading towards one of the landings, the same one where he had spoken with Nash before they left for Chliofrond. He stepped outside, at once the air becoming near frigid. He pulled his cloak in close, looking out.

The stars were beginning to glitter. He looked up at them for a while, knowing that they weren't stars. That they were campfires. Other civilizations, all aglow.

Save for a dark patch on one of the other landmasses. A dense, dark storm that covered the entire place, occasional lightning riveting over its blanket.

“Eln meia lands,” a voice said behind him.

Joseph turned. Mekke was there, her arms folded as she leaned against the open doorway.

“Eln meia,” Joseph said, “Heard of them. Blue people, right?”

“Pirates. Nomads. Travelers. Some of them Far,” Mekke said, “They've united, you know. All of their fleets under a single banner. People are saying they're going on a warpath with the rest of Londoa.”

“Great,” Joseph said, “Just what I needed, a damn war.”

“Doesn't mean we're going to get involved,” Mekke said.

“With my luck?” Joseph chuckled, “We will.”

“Hmm.”

The former soldier closed the door, walking over to stand next to him. He kept his eyes on the storm. She was looking at the city below.

“So,” she said, “People still haven't forgotten about what you did, then.”

“No,” Joseph said, “And I'm not expecting to.”

“Did you even think about what the reaction would be?” Mekke asked.

“I mean, I knew it'd be bad,” Joseph replied, but then he gave out a weary sigh, “Just didn't realize it was that big of a deal, you know? I thought Tek would easily be able to find someone else.”

“But he didn't.”

“No, I guess not.”

“You went back on your word.”

“People do that all the time, here,” Joseph said.

He realized he had said the wrong thing, as he noticed that Mekke immediately turned to look at him. To glare at him.

“Is that what you think, then?” she said.

“Not you, at least,” Joseph said.

“Then who?”

Joseph was careful. But he was also…

Something was stirring within him, a face to conjure, to vent his frustrations.

“Wakeling, for one,” he said.

“Why, because she won't let you go to the sarcophagi?”

Now it was Joseph who was glaring. The air began to smell of ozone.

“She told you that, then?” he said.

“I'm part of guild leadership, remember,” Mekke said, “Sometimes we have conversations. Sometimes we tell each other about the day.”

“Glad she felt comfortable enough to just drop that into a conversation,” Joseph said.

“It was nothing like that,” Mekke said, “She told me about your talk with her to let me know how you were feeling. She cares about you, Joseph.”

“Feels like I never even see her,” Joseph said, “Besides, it's not... It's not just that.”

“Oh?”

“...Back on Chliofrond,” Joseph said, “We were all told that our mission was one of exploration. That we were surveying a dead plane. That was it. But then we found out later that the whole point of the job was to find the Shard of Imagination. You should have seen Nash, then.”

“There's a reason Nash doesn't visit very often,” Mekke said.

“I'm starting to see why,” Joseph replied, “They were... They were mad because Wakeling kept things out of the job description. Said it was on a 'need to know basis.' I don't know about you, but I've done my research on Shards of Imagination. On what we were told to find. We're looking for something like that, and you don't tell us?”

Mekke was quiet.

“I just, I don't know,” Joseph said, “It just seems like I'm getting strung up and forced to do all of this crazy shit, and I'm told I'll get the help I need to get home, but... I don't. I've only ever found one thing that gets me home, and I'm barred from it. And then she doesn't say anything, and then she expects me to fight for her, to kill, and-”

“Joseph, you don't need to go on those jobs,” Mekke said, “Just talk to her. Or Becenti.”

“Yeah, well,” Joseph said, “Remember what we talked about, before I went to InterGuild?”

He gave a dark, angry smirk. Cobalt light washed over him as his soul's head overtook his own.

“'Find what I'm good at.'”

Mekke glared at him.

“You know that's not what I meant, Joseph.”

He kept the eagle's head on like a helmet. But she could see his frown deepen.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, “But… I need those damn coffins, Mekke. They’re all I have. They’re all I’ve got.”

There was a desperate edge to his voice. But Mekke was unimpressed.

“Enough to turn your back on Tek?”

He rolled his eagle’s eyes.

“Trust me,” he said, “I’ve bled enough for that. I didn’t even get what I was looking for. That make you feel any better?”

“Does it matter?”

“The way people lord it over me, it fucking does.”

He felt Mekke's hand fall on his shoulder, and squeeze tight. Painfully so. He looked up to see her glaring down at him.

“Because it doesn’t make me feel better,” she said, “Don’t you go thinking that just because you’ve got your own issues means you get to step on everyone around you. We’ve all got places to be.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Joseph,” Mekke said, “You want to know why everyone’s mad at you, why they can’t seem to ‘let it go’? Because we care about what our guildmates do. We want you to succeed. Trust me on that. What we don’t want, is for you to stab us in the back while you do it.”

“I didn’t do anything like that to Tek,” Joseph said.

Mekke snorted.

“You might as well have,” she said, “He needed you. Right at the climax of what he was working for. You couldn't have left at a worse time.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that came at Mekke's words. She let go of him, stepping back, crossing her arms once more.

Waiting for Joseph's reaction.

He sighed. Turned back to look down at the city.

“Right,” he said, “Well, I did fuck up, didn't I?”

“You did,” Mekke said.

“Meleko says that things will calm down,” Joseph said.

“Maybe,” Mekke said, “But your rep took a hit, Joe. Remember that. People you hurt, they don't forget about what you did to them, even after they forgive you.”

She gave Joseph a light punch on the shoulder.

“Remember that.”

She was about to walk back inside when they heard yells from below. Both of them looked down below, and through his enhanced vision Joseph saw two figures making their way to Castle Belenus. Both of them were wearing ragged cloaks, one of them was carrying what seemed to be a large vase of some kind. The taller of the two called out.

His voice was familiar...

Becenti.

At once Joseph was vaulting down the side of the guildhall, electrical arms sparking to life, gorilla-like and grabbing onto the vines that covered the outer walls of Castle Belenus. He made his way down, landing with a grunt in the garden. He ran to the entrance just as Becenti made it to the door.

The old man was accompanied by G-Wiz, and both of them looked exhausted. Purple rings underscored their eyes, which were darting this way and that, as though they were expecting an attack at any moment.

Joseph looked out into the night, to be sure. But there was nothing out there save for the city.

“G-Good to see you, Joseph,” Becenti said, “Get us inside. Get Lazuli and Tek. Mallory, too. Go.”

There was a hard knuckle to his order, as though life and death were hanging in the balance. Joseph threw open the door and ran inside. He was in a rush, looking around. He found Mallory and Lazuli relatively quickly, the two of them working on an engine of some sort in one of the side rooms. Mallory looked up at him for a moment, giving him a curt nod (which was more than she had given him the past few weeks.) Lazuli, on the other hand, flipped him off.

“Fuck off, Joe.”

“Guys,” Joseph said, “Becenti's back.”

“Suck my-”

“Fuck off, he needs you both,” Joseph said, “Don't shoot the messenger.”

Lazuli rolled his eyes, but he and the steamer got up. Slowly. Sauntering their way towards the door.

Then G-Wiz began to yell, and they broke into dead runs. Joseph followed closely behind.

“Tek,” he said, “Tek.”

The mound was in the Welt. Probably already there, too. Shit.

He ran to the library. Barbara was sorting through a pile of books.

“Barbara!” he said, “I need Tek.”

“Oh, now you need him?” Barbara said, “After all this time-”

“Becenti needs him!” Joseph said, “He's at the Welt, and it's an emergency, and-”

The toucan was already taking off, winging into the air and flying through an open window. He saw her disappear into the night.

With that done, Joseph ran down the stairs out of the library, towards the Great Hall. Becenti and G-Wiz had drawn a crowd by this point, the Electron having laid the vase on the ground. A speaker was attached to the vase, and crackling through it was a voice.

“Easy does it, now,” the voice said.

“Oh geez,” Lazuli gasped, “Vicenorn?”

“Hello, Lazuli,” Vicenorn said, “Help me, will you? This vase isn't going to be able to hold me much longer.”

“How long do we have?” Becenti asked.

“Until basic functions begin to shut down?” Vicenorn said, “Six hours. Please hurry, I'm beginning to see stars, and I have no eyes.”

With a twist, Becenti opened up the vase's top. Spilling out in a pool of solid slime was a smaller, clear vase, inside of which was a brain and a pair of lungs, connected to a brass rod. Becenti picked it up and looked around.

“We need Tek for this,” he said, and his eyes found Joseph, “Mr. Zheng?”

“He's at the Welt,” Joseph said, “Barbara's getting him.”

“Good,” Becenti said, “Mallory. Lazuli. We're going to his lab. Start getting materials together. Get Heyma, too, we might need some assistance from her.”

He stood up and started to walk. Some of the crowd followed him. Others lingered. Lazuli and Mallory walked just behind the old metahuman as he made for the stairs, heading towards Tek's lab.

“Why Heyma?” Lazuli asked.

“She's a soul in a suit of armor,” Becenti said, “A similar situation to Vicenorn.”

“And what's Vicenorn?” Lazuli asked.

Becenti turned around. By this point, others in the guild were following them. He surveyed their faces.

“All of you, clear off,” Becenti said, “Get to surveying the city. Make sure we weren't followed, and by God make sure that Tek knows this is urgent. Oris is dying.”

He glared at all of them. The Amber Foundation waited.

“Go!” he barked, and they scattered. Joseph found Dama Runebreaker drawing up beside him.

“Not everyday you see something like that,” she said.

“Mm,” Joseph said.

“Wasn't talking to you, Joseph,” Dama Runebreaker said, “Nova's above you.”

Joseph looked up. The neon elemental was, indeed, hanging over him like a cloud. They and Dama Runebreaker quickened their pace to get in front of him as they continued talking. Joseph slowed down a bit, letting them move off. He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a few moments, watching the rest of the guild scatter into pairs of twos and threes.

“Hey Noodle.”

He turned.

G-Wiz was there. She was still in her dingy cloak, and she was clutching her keytar in hand, holding it close to her like a teddy bear.

“'Sup, G-Wiz,” Joseph said, “All good?”

“...Nah,” she said, “Just...”

She took a deep breath. But was silent. Joseph leaned against the wall.

“G,” he said, “What happened out there? Where the hell were you?”

The Electron opened her mouth, then closed it. As though unsure of what to say. Her eyes darted over as she noticed something floating down by the glass blade in the Great Hall's center. Wakeling. The witch's head was making her way to the floor that Becenti and the others were on. She glanced to G-Wiz and Joseph. Gave G-Wiz a warning look, before moving down the hall with the others. Joseph's eyes narrowed at that.

“One of those jobs, then,” he said.

“Could say that,” G-Wiz said.

“Thought you went with Ichabod on that. I heard Rorshin and Contort were going on something, too.”

“Can't confirm nor deny.”

“But they were, weren't they?” Joseph said, “And now they're not here. They... They aren't, you know...”

“What? Dead?” G-Wiz spat, “No, Noods. I don't think they are. They're just... on a bit of a walkabout.”

“Hmm,” Joseph said.

“Look, dude,” G-Wiz said, “I can't tell you anything about it. Now get out of the way, I need to get to the infirmary.”

She pushed him out of the way, heading towards Elenry, who was already opening up the door to the medical wing and rushing towards her. Joseph watched them for a few moments.

Then, curiosity washing over him, he walked over to the door, surreptitiously putting an ear against it. The sound was muffled through the heavy wooden door, but he could make out Elenry cooing and tutting over G-Wiz, with all the usual air of a disappointed mother. Joseph rolled his eyes at that.

“How did this even happen?” Elenry said, “What sort of job did Myron have you going on this time?”

“Can't say,” G-Wiz's voice was difficult to hear, Joseph pressed his ear further against the door. He was aware that, at any moment, someone would be able to see him. But he didn't care.

“Can't say, or won't?” Elenry asked.

“Can't,” G-Wiz said, “Mum's the word, Wakeling's orders.”

There was a bout of silence at that. Joseph could hear, dimly, the clink of potions, of Elenry padding over to her desk.

“Bullshite, that's what I say to that,” the gloivel said, “The more Wakeling puts us on jobs like that, the less say we have on anything we do.”

“It was... a personal matter, to be honest,” G-Wiz said.

“As if that makes a difference,” Elenry said, “The more secrets one hides, the more the secrets become them, and they have to study every word they say, and make more secrets, more lies, for the sake of it. And witches, they're often the worst of the lot.”

A finger tapped on Joseph's shoulder. With a start, he turned. Rosemary was there, eyebrow raised. Joseph shooed her away, but she didn't budge.

Finally, he stood up. Brought a finger to his lips, and continued to listen.

“Easier place for it,” Rosemary whispered.

Joseph blinked. Then followed her as she started running up the stairs. She went up a level, then turned to the hallway, removing a couple of bricks from a wall, revealing a small tunnel. She beamed at Joseph and gestured for him to follow her in.

“You do this a lot?” Joseph asked.

“Best to know the place you live, you know?” Rosemary replied, “Be careful. Bit of a squeeze.”

Indeed, it was. The makeshift tunnel soon became a crawling affair, as the two of them snailed their way through the opening on their hands and feet. Joseph's heart hammered as he went in. He never was quite good with tight spaces like this. Rosemary, too, when she glanced back at him, wore a forced smile.

“Here we go,” she whispered, and she removed a few more bricks on the floor, before crawling over them. With a flexibility that almost matched Contort's, she turned in the tunnel so she and Joseph were face to face, “Go on, look down.”

Joseph did so, peering down through the hole she made. It was a subtle opening, but they were right over Elenry's office. The gloivel had finished making a cup of hot chocolate, passing it over to G-Wiz, who took it in hand, taking a few sips.

“Right, then,” Elenry said, “Most of your wounds are superficial. Scrapes and whatnot.”

“Then why fret about the job?” G-Wiz asked.

“Because six of you went on it, and only three of you returned,” Elenry said, “One of you in a jar. The last time something like that happened, it was Mordenaro.”

G-Wiz flinched.

“And now you're telling me that you can't say where you went, what you did. That's fine. Wakeling's orders. Sure. But I'm a doctor, and a doctor supersedes a guildmaster, each and every time. You look like you've been through the wringer, and since we don't have a therapist onboard, I suppose I'm the next best thing.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” G-Wiz asked.

“It means that, when the others return, they're going to have some mental trauma that needs to be worked through,” Elenry said, “And I'll have to be the shoulder to cry on. I've done that with almost everyone here, you know. My door's always open.”

“Thanks, but fuck that,” G-Wiz said, “Let me deal with shit my own way.”

“Go ahead,” Elenry said, “At least have someone to talk to, doesn't need to be me. But I do need to know, at least an inkling of what happened, so I can help the others. I know that Contort, at least, will need to talk.”

G-Wiz was quiet.

“Doesn't have to be a lot,” Elenry said, “Just what happened. What you had to do.”

“...Alright,” G-Wiz said, “We infiltrated a tower.”

“I see,” Elenry said.

“No, you don't get it. It wasn't...”

She hesitated. Joseph could see her look around, to make sure no one was watching. But she never looked up.

“It wasn't just a tower. It was... the Tower. The Tower of Eden.”

He saw Elenry give out a light gasp, almost drop the potion she was holding onto. She caught it. Adjusted her glasses.

“Agrippa,” she said.

“Yeah.”

Rosemary's eyes were widening, but Joseph didn't hear anything else. His heartbeat, deep and electric and getting faster and faster, overtook all sound in his head.

Stay away from Agrippa, Joseph. The words, Wakeling's warnings, played out in his head. Rosemary looked at him. He remembered that she had told him that the Amber Foundation didn't deal with him. Any job that came up involving him, they avoided.

As though he were the plague.

And yet-

And yet here they were. Dealing with Agrippa.

Who had the sarcophagi.

Wakeling had lied. She had gone back on her words.

Joseph began to see red.

“Joseph?” Rosemary said, “Joseph, what's up?”

He was already crawling out, wanting to stand up, his back scraping against the tunnel's low ceiling. Occasionally his head would bump against it, sprouting pain that just drove his anger further.

He extricated himself. Took a deep breath. Two.

Steady yourself, Joseph.

The air reeked of ozone, of cooking bread. Sparks popped in the air like miniature fireworks.

“Joseph,” he could hear Rosemary, but she sounded far away, “Joseph, what’s up, what’s-”

He ignored her.

He was off.

Up the stairs.

To Wakeling.