They were back at the warehouse. Dorian found Gerard sitting on a high-backed chair, sipping tea, legs tastefully crossed. Sun was hanging upside-down off one of the lamps, scatter-gunning appleseeds. She waved cheerfully when she saw him. Gerard offered him a curt nod and a raised brow.

“You’re four minutes and sixteen seconds late,” he said.

“Blah.” Dorian dismissed him with a wave. “Perfect punctuality is a sure sign of a bore.”

“Sir, you do speed-runs.”

Dorian wagged a finger at him. “I am a changed man.”

“Of course, sir.”

“So! What have all of you been up to?” He rubbed his hands. “Gerard—care to go first?”

“I have planted all but one of the bombs at Ur’s weapons depots—which serve as the weapon and armor stores for all Jez’s forces. They are now at the ready. I hope to plant the last one in the palace itself. If all goes well, by the time Fate’s and Jez’s armies clash Jez’s forces will be find themselves quite…deprived.”

“Very good.”

“I’ve also commissioned a vampirism antidote—”

With a magician’s flourish Gerard produced a bubbling purple vial in one gloved hand. “—As well as a hyper-concentrated sample of Jiangshi venom, graciously donated by my good friend Cao.” In the other, a needle tipped green.

“Excellent!” Dorian grinned. As usual, Gerard was nothing if not competent. All his tasks, done as assigned, on-time with no fuss. “Is that all?”

“No, sir.” Gerard cleared his throat. “I completed my tasks 4 days early. I spent a day traversing Ur’s various canals and sights… I found the city not to my liking. Too… messy. Away from my gardens, I needed something with which to occupy my time. So I have adopted him.”

He pointed, and Dorian just noticed the bulbous thing at his feet. The moment he noticed it he wondered how he hadn’t noticed it. It was one of the ugliest things Dorian had ever seen. Maybe his subconscious selectively edited it out to spare him the sight.

“This is a Yulwa Toad,” said Gerard. “I have named him Gerard Jr.”

He rubbed the toad’s warty head. The toad burped happily.

“…Great.”

“Gerard Jr. needs to be taken for walks four times daily. He must be groomed and washed in the morning. His pores also require deep cleaning daily, once in the morning and once in the evening. He can only digest certain species if fly. He is also allergic to most species of plant and animal, so kindly refrain from feeding him. I will take care of that.”

“I see.”

“Here are a few fun facts about the Yulwa Toad,” said Gerard. “Few Toads have such remarkable affinities for Space Laws as the Yulwa Toad. They sleep in nineteen-hour cycles. They can also mimic human speech, like parrots.” Gerard Jr. burped in agreement. “If you would like to know more, I have taken the liberty of writing up a pamphlet.”

“No thanks. Pray tell, why did you choose to adopt this… thing? Will it help on the heist?”

“No. Its main virtue, among its many virtues, is that it is very cute,” said Gerard seriously.

“Gerard, that is the ugliest thing I have ever seen.”

The toad gave a sad gurgle. Indeed it did look very sad. Gerard frowned. They looked very much alike then. “Sir, I must ask you to apologize.”

“Seriously?”

Gerard kept frowning at him.

“This isn’t how it works. You’re my servant. You don’t tell me what to do.”

“Sir, Yulwa toads are among the most intelligent toad species in the Multiverse. They have vibrant, richly emotional inner lives. You cannot simply go around hurting their feelings. It isn’t nice.”

“…Fine.” Dorian sighed. “I’m sorry, Gerard, Jr.”

Gerard Jr. burped angrily and turned away from him. Dorian debated feeding it one of Sun’s carrots as soon as Gerard was out of sight.

He gave Gerard his driest glance. “Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“Right then! Sun? How about you? I hope you’ve made as…good…a use of your time as Gerard here.”

“Even better!” She grinned, spitting out a seed. “There’s so much tasty stuff here! I must’ve tried ten kinds of sausages. And so many fruits! Some of the best pears I’ve ever tasted, so tart and crisp and juicy as morning dew—and the carrots! Oh, Heavens, the carrots—the bread, too! Fuck…” She was drooling a little. “Heaven is being stuck in a time-loop endlessly replaying the first time you bite into a loaf of Ur bread. I also replaced three of my spatulas. Oh, also, there’s this seasoning—coorcoomoon—it’s like salt, but more sour and feisty? Have either of you tried it?”

“Oh, yes.” Gerard wrinkled his nose. “A smidge strong for my taste.”

“I can see that.” Sun nodded. “Well, I’m a big fan! I brought a shaker and some whale meat. Wanna try—”

“Terribly sorry to interrupt this delightful food chatter,” said Dorian. “I meant updates about your assigned tasks, runt. How goes the cultivation?”

“Ah. …That. Yes.” Sun scratched her head. “I will get on that. Promptly!”

“What do you mean, you’ll get on that? How much have you done?” At least she had the decency to look guilty. Her ears drooped. “Um.”

“Runt. You’ve had a week.”

“I can explain! It’s part of the process. You have to let these things marinate. You see, my cultivation speed is inversely proportional to how close the deadline is.”

“…”

“Ask any of my siblings! Grandpa Wukong used to set monthly cultivation checkpoints for us—It took them a month! I’d cultivate just enough to pass them in the hour before midnight.” Sun grinned wistfully, like she was recalling a treasured childhood memory. “Oh, they hated me for it. Four of them tried to assassinate me in the middle of the night they were so mad! Almost managed it, too.”

“Did you at least try?”

“Yea! I did, I swear. I just get bored very easily. And distracted.”

“You do realize if we’re to have the faintest hope at getting in the vaults we’ll need you to shapeshift.”

“Shhh,” said Sun through a mouthful of apple, which took some impressive lip dexterity. “Have some faith. I’ve got this! You can count on me—ow!”

That was Dorian hauling her off the lamp by the tail with a clenched fist.

Her big, upside-down frightened eyes met Dorian’s right-side-up narrowed ones. “This is what’s going to happen. I am going to babysit you. You are going to sit down and not stop cultivating until you’ve hit the thirtieth Transformation. Understood?”

She blinked and spat an appleseed in his face. He was so surprised he didn’t even dodge. It crawled a slow wet trail down one cheek.

“Sorry!” Sun yelped. “Reflex. You’re very frightening, you know that?”

“Understood?”

The corners of her mouth drooped, her eyelashes fluttered, and she gave him a look that would’ve put kicked puppies to shame. Dorian was entirely unimpressed.

“Ah fuck you, you old cunt,” she sighed. “Fine!”

***

Gerard gifted her a Potion of Supreme Knowing to boost her Dao comprehension. “It should speed matters,” he said. “Though… you shall need to make the jump from early to mid God. In a week. I do not see how this will be possible.”

“In my experience,” said Sun brightly. “Few people can comprehend the full scope of what I’m capable of! That includes me, actually. I surprise myself constantly.”

Then it was just Dorian on Gerard’s chair and Sun cross-legged on a straw mat. He regretted not asking Gerard for a manacle and chains, she was shifting about so much.

“This is itchy.”

“Quiet, runt.”

Three minutes in—“Can I use the restroom—”

“No.”

“Tch!”

Sullenly she began munching on another apple. “Hand me the ring,” said Dorian. “No food until you’re finished.”

By the look on her face you’d think he’d asked her to carve out her still-beating heart. Dorian sighed. “Come on. It’s for your own good.”

She began squinting at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Plotting your untimely demise,” she gritted out. Dorian rolled his eyes. How was he, of all people, the adult in the room?

A [Sunshine Step] landed him an inch from her face. She yelped as he snatched the Interspatial Ring right off her finger.

“Stop acting like a child and cultivate, will you?” He sat back on the chair, crossing his arms like a stern headmaster.

“…Fine.” Sun sighed. “My grand plan—annoying you into leaving me alone—appears to have failed miserably. I’ll do it, I’ll do it…”

And to his surprise for the next two hours she did. She sat down, closed her eyes, and meditated. He was so surprised that he went up to her and poked her in the face thirty minutes in.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Just checking. I was starting to think you’d replaced yourself with a doppelgänger. Carry on.”

“That felt unnecessarily mean.”

He grinned. “Have you met me?”

Two hours passed before either of them spoke another word. It was Sun that broke the silence.

“Done!”

“What?”

“I’m done. Food please?” She made a lunge for her ring but Dorian pulled up his hand at the last second. She ended up flat on her face.

“Show me.”

Grumbling, she closed her eyes. And then her furs receded. Her body shrank, skin darkened, took on a shell’s gloss. In seconds she’d become a beetle.

A beetle with the aura of a Mid God.

Then it all went in reverse. She was Sun again seconds later, looking up at him expectantly.

“…Well! So you have.” He smiled. “Well done.” He handed her the Ring. In seconds she had bread in her mouth.

“Early to Mid God in two hours?” It was only Dao. She’d need to grind up a lot more qi to ascend; it wasn’t like she could make Empyrean in an afternoon.

Still, this was obscene talent.

Dorian had suspected she was talented, of course. She was chosen by the Jingu Bang. She was the Wukong heir.Even so…

“You do realize if you put your mind to it, you could hit Godking in a century.”

“Huh. Nice!” said Sun, like he’d just said made a comment about the weather. She kept on munching.