The gigachad frame groaned. The back panel came off. Then the leg guards.

  Piece by piece, the magitek frame was dismantled around me. The two cryptids reduced my armor to scrap with absolutely ruthless efficiency.

  My side bag with my tablet vanished in the gloom, torn from my belt.

  "No calling for help!" Sage declared. "Is my phone now."

  Then they came for the hexasuit. The hexasuit didn’t last long since it relied on an external magitek battery strapped to my back which Sage tore away with a giggle.

  Sharp claws obliterated, tore off the unpowered suit in a few minutes, leaving me in the dark village square wearing only my sweat-soaked workout clothes and the neural interface headband. The dismembered frame pieces lay scattered around me, glowing with accumulated paintball residue like some kind of rejected Transformers corpse.

  I was breathing hard now. The adrenaline crash hit like a freight train made of exhaustion.

  The ocean of shadowy fox-shadows circled. Glowing eyes forming a ring of judgment. Waiting.

  For what?

  I turned slowly, trying to track all the threats at once. They moved too fast. Blinked in and out of existence. Appeared behind me when I looked forward, flanked me when I faced backward.

  A shack to my left stood slightly less ruined than the others. The door hung open, crooked on one remaining hinge. It was dark inside it, but the center was lit by a ray of... moonlight?

  How? Surely it wasn't THAT late. Or was it?

  “Run,” Sage whispered. “Or we’ll peel off your skin next.”

  I ran for it, heart pounding madly.

  The spiral of fox-shadows parted, letting me through in an almost encouraging manner. They were definitely herding me toward my final destination, my resting place.

  I burst through the door.

  The interior was… worse than the exterior.

  Dead television sets covered every surface. Stacked against walls atop each other. Piled in corners. Hanging from the ceiling on chains. Hundreds of TVs. All different sizes, different eras. Cathode ray tubes from the seventies. Flat screens from the two thousands. Tiny portable sets. Every screen was dark.

  And the rotting walls were…

  Covered in symbols. The same fox markings from outside, but denser. More frantic. Carved deep into the wood. Scratched with claws. Painted in dark streaks. Overlapping each other. Layers upon layers. Years of marking territory. Claiming the space.

  I panted, my thoughts rushing like a falling waterfall.

  The roof had long ago collapsed in the center and been cleared out. Moonlight poured through the hole, bright, pure, ridiculously clear. It illuminated a space that should have been pitch black like a sinkhole cavern of the deep sea.

  I ran for it and settled under the rays of moonlight, panting furiously.

  My back hit the far wall covered in TVs. Nowhere left to run. The door behind me showed only darkness, the village square vanished. Replaced by... nothing at all. Maybe some kind of a hungry, abyssal void. Just... watching. Waiting for the ending arc where the hapless protagonist dies.

  Footsteps.

  Slow. Deliberate. Claws clicking against rotted floorboards.

  Sage emerged from the shadows to my right. Not the cute, playful Skinwalker from earlier. This version moved like liquid death. All predator. All hunger.

  She smiled. Too many sharp teeth. Fingers shaped like long, bony, saw blades.

  Then she giggled, ruining the horror movie theme entirely. "Dude. Your face. Oh my god. You look like you just realized you left the stove on. Except the stove is your life and the house is on fire and the fire department is also foxes."

  "Sage..." I started.

  "Shh shh shh." She waved a claw dismissively. "We caught you! Fair and square! Well, unfair and triangle-shaped if we're being technical about the geometry of how my fox army and me and T-buns dismantled your robot suit, but who's counting?"

  Then, she lunged.

  Her claws found my mundane clothes, ripping holes in them and pulling. Within seconds, I was fully naked, wearing only the frantically flickering Neural Interface headband.

  "Much better!" Sage announced. "Now you look properly defeated! Very vulnerable! Should I get the trophy photo?"

  She pulled my tablet out from the bag she stole from me, slid next to me and nuzzled the side of my face, the shutter clicking.

  Then she slid the tablet back into the bag and spun through the air.

  Her hands pressed against my chest. Pushed me down.

  "All that running," Sage murmured, leaning in close. Her nose traced my collarbone. "All that clever planning. All those tricks and traps and distractions. The glitter bomb... inspired, by the way. Very petty. I respect petty."

  She inhaled deeply.

  "And you still ended up here, in my lovely office. Caught. Cornered. Mine. Forever."

  Her tongue emerged. It was long, rough like a cat's and also flexible as a serpent. It dragged across my neck, tasting the accumulated six hours of sweat. I shuddered. Partly from the weirdness. Mostly from exhaustion. Maybe a little from fear.

  Hopefully, the Skinwalker wasn’t going to eat me.

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  She looked bony and fleshy and slightly furry, thankfully not radiating the mind-melting attraction that destroyed Dax.

  "Mmm," Sage made an appreciative sound. "Human smeared in exhaustion and fear. The good stuff. This is premium material, A-chad. Top shelf. Five thousand and two stars on Yelp. Would lick again."

  "Thanks," I let out, panting. “I—”

  "Shh." Another lick, this one across my jaw. "You lost the hunt. Winners make the rules. Losers get licked. Them's the breaks. And my rule is..." She pressed closer, pinning me completely against the rotting floor. "...I get to enjoy my prize. But don't worry! I'm a generous fox. I'll share with my T-bun."

  I saw movement to my left. Galateya arrived on all fours, scales reflecting moonlight in prismatic patterns as she emerged from the shadows.

  Her digitigrade legs shifted into something more bestial, colorful tail swishing. Mane of crystalline red-pink flowers sparkled on her head. Her eyes glowed inner violet light, like two galactic constellations.

  She approached slowly. Predator evaluating prey. Then she settled into a crouch just a few feet away, watching. Waiting. Panting. Drooling slightly, mouth open, tongue out.

  Damn, she was really into this whole human-hunting business.

  "Hi T-bun," Sage called without looking away from me. "You look like you're enjoying the show. Very intense leering happening over there."

  Galateya said nothing, simply watching us. Scales shifting through reds, golds and pinks like a living, breathing sunset.

  “Let’s bring in some… illumination,” Sage snapped her claws.

  Hundreds of TV screens suddenly came on, flickered with static, fox eyes appearing and fading away.

  Sage's tongue made another pass across my chest, collecting more sweat. "Mmmmm… You taste like victory. Like defeat. Like a human who ran himself ragged trying to outsmart the fox." She grinned looking at my face. "Spoiler alert—doesn't work! The skulk always wins. It's like rock-paper-scissors except the Sea of Foxes beats everything including gun. He he he."

  Her hands moved to my sides, bony claws pricking and thankfully not breaking skin.

  She looked and smelled like a walking, rotting corpse, fox skull glistening, sunken, alien orbs glowing blue in dark depths.

  "Fine," I admitted. "You caught me. I surrender.”

  “It was a good chase,” Sage nodded. “Right T-bum?”

  “The… best,” Galateya let out with a bone-deep growl.

  “Why does this place feel like reality is held together with duct tape and hope? And why are the TVs on when there's no power?" I asked.

  Sage's skull bloomed with a bit more red-orange fur, making her look slightly more alive. "Oh! You noticed! Good eye, A-chad! Welcome to my greatest achievement!" She spread her arms, encompassing the shack. "Sagetopia isn't just a creepy abandoned village. It's a localized Astral anomaly!"

  "We’re in Darkfall, yes?"

  "Yess. Darkfall Valley," Sage affirmed, one claw tracing hearts on my chest. "Where the land drops away into the misty abyss. We’re inside it. At a lovely pocket at the North-Western edge."

  “What is Darkfall exactly, Miss Wizard?” I asked, shuddering as she licked me again.

  "It's a sinkhole!" Sage explained, "Not a geological one. An... Astral sinkhole. The boundary between reality and the Astral plane is thinner here. Entropy is higher. Magic works easier. S' why the whole area has spooki-fog-mojo vibes!”

  The TVs flickered again, static forming patterns. Fox faces. Running shapes. Eyes watching.

  "I studied it," Sage continued. "Since I ate my first fox, I mapped the valley's properties. Measured the Astral thinning. Figured out how it worked. Then I… found this rustic place, claimed this shack and began to make it mine." She grinned, exposed flesh pulling back from too-white teeth. "Took me years to get it right. But now Sagetopia is extra-magical and extra-mine. The Astral bleeds through. My foxes can manifest as shadows. The TVs pick up... other channels."

  "Other channels?"

  "Echoes," Sage said. "Memories. Dreams bleeding through the thin spots. Mostly mine. Sometimes visitors. The Astral doesn't really distinguish between past, present, and future when the boundary gets weak enough. I can use it to peer into other dimensions, make 'em function like Astral radios. It... picks up broadcasts from Omnithornia. Omnid TV shows, news, that sorta thing. Interdimensional television at its finest!"

  I stared at the flickering screens. One showed a forest. Another displayed a city street. A third featured… a cosplay convention. The images shifted and changed, unstable.

  "So this whole place is—"

  "A claimed pocket of personal powah!" Sage finished proudly. "My lair. My safe space where I can let fourteen thousand fox souls run wild without worrying about scaring the normies." Her tongue emerged again, dragging across my stomach. "And right now, you're caught in the eye of the storm. How does it feel?"

  "Weird," I admitted. "Like being inside someone's fever dream."

  "Accurate!" Sage giggled. "Now. Where were we? Oh right. Victory licking."

  Her tongue traced my collarbone again, rough and warm. I shuddered. The sensation was strange, albeit not unpleasant. Just... different. Very different from Shady and Nexxali.

  Galateya crept closer, still watching Sage lick me with intense focus.

  "Don't be shy, T-bun," Sage called without stopping her exploration of my neck. "Come taste! He's delicious! So sweaty! Very defeated! Peak prey flavor!"

  Galateya hesitated, tail curling uncertainly.

  "It's fine," Sage encouraged. "We won him together. We'll share the prize together. Come on. I can smell your want from here. Stop being a noble dragon and be a hungry dragon."

  The Taniwha's eyes met mine. I saw the question there. The uncertainty. The desire fighting with propriety and shy inexperience.

  I nodded. “Go ahead, you’ve won, earned it. Lick away.”

  Permission. Consent. Whatever she needed to hear without words.

  Galateya approached on all fours, muscles coiled beneath shifting scales. When she reached me, she rose up on her hind legs, one clawed hand pressing against the wall beside my head. Her face came close. Close enough to feel her breath, hot and carrying a faint scent of a tropical thunderstorm.

  Her tongue emerged. Broad and soft... draconic. It dragged across my other shoulder, tasting me cautiously.

  Galateya made a small, happy sound. Her scales rippled with colors like firework explosions.

  "S' great, right?" Sage grinned. "Premium human! Free range. Organically terrified."

  Now I had two cryptids licking me. One on each side. Sage's tongue rapidly painted wet trails across my skin. Galateya's movements were more exploratory, uncertain but eager. Learning. Testing the ground.

  The mossy floor beneath Galateya began to change.

  I noticed it when Galateya's tongue traced along my jaw. Where her body touched the rotted floorboards, soft and vibrant-green moss spread, growing rapidly and covering the decay like a living carpet. The rough, rotting wood beneath me gradually became soft and comfortable.

  "Mmm," Sage hummed against my neck. "Someone's getting excited. Reality-bending already, T? We've barely started the nommage."

  “Urhm.” Galateya pulled back, looking down at the expanding moss and then at Sage. "I... I wasn't trying to—"

  "Shh." Sage kissed the dragon's snout. "Let it happen. This place is skewed with entropy to the brim. It responds to your reality-rearranging magic. To emotion. To desire. That's the whole point! 'S my little, personal, almost-dungeon. Let your Phase-shift play. Let it grow. I’m kind of shit at growing nice Syntropic stuff aka domain terraforming… but you. You’re a Taniwha. You can make this place look nice for us, not just creepy as fuck."

  The moss continued spreading from painting Galateya in radial waves like emerald fire, transforming the decrepit shack interior into a greenhouse. Black mold turned to green blossoms, engulfing the walls. Small flowers bloomed, featuring the same alien hybrid species from Galateya's mane, now manifesting in the environment.

  "Incredible," I breathed.

  Sage bit my neck.

  Galateya's scales flushed pink. The flowers bloomed brighter. Colorful grasses exploded in the corners. Tree roots became alive and creeped across and up the walls. Little flowers filled the wall cracks.

  Sage laughed and kissed Galateya fiercely and then tore her shirt open with a white claw, making the dragon girl yelp and cover her exposed chest. "Hah! T-bun, you’re like a mood ring that affects reality!"

  She pulled off the “PUSSY EATS U” shirt, exposing her own breasts.