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B3 — 34. Unraveled

  The bar’s low lights cut through the hazy smoke, barely illuminating the face of the deaf bartender. He glanced Rachel’s way, but upon no recognition from her, he returned his gaze to the TV, where a rerun of her battle against Green was playing.

  Rachel sat alone, the amber liquid in her untouched glass catching what little light filtered down from above— left glass. Only the sound of the low, lulling music of the jukebox hummed through the room, hundreds of dots bouncing around her head, looking for strings to connect them.

  Her ears twitched at every creak of the floorboards the deaf man made, every clink of a newly cleaned glass from what must have been a busy day. Now, all the military personnel were searching the whole of Billings, identifying who was here and who wasn’t.

  Her senses stretched to their limits, despite her exhaustion. Attempting to find anything to further help her—to distract her.

  …Aurora, who is wearing your skin like a costume, playing your persona and Myth so well that not even the Scarlet Hand realized it?

  The thought sent a chill through Rachel’s bones—not from fear, but from the implications cascading through her mind. What Aurora’s goal was in Elizabeth’s Legend Quest… Her.

  Assuming Aurora doesn’t work for Fate, then the only other person I know of who saw the bigger picture and actively made moves to overcome her…was Twilight. Not even the Creation Deities have had a full grasp of things…but Cerridwen did as a 6th-dimensional goddess.

  She gained her insight from the Ever-Shifting Mists, though. They set my misfortune up to break Fate’s strings, building tension until it snapped. But…that’s a question in itself that goes right back to Mom…

  Who am I to have this much power?

  Adele knows. Mom probably knows. Seed Scarlet knew. Black Hat knew… They call me Misfortune, the Limpid Jade Hare…Karma.

  She closed her eyes, rubbing between them and puffing out her cheeks. Thoughts buzzing, they returned to the moment she’d gained her Evolutions, feeling Nia and Nike resting within her. Feeling the stress through the fanged tattoos of the triplets burning her arm. The innumerable twists her soul had gone through in bypassing the 7th Wall.

  Awakened Melishna: The Flower of Light…

  She hadn’t given Melishna the power to shed her light.

  No. She’d only given just enough of a nudge to her to wake the sleeping Eldritch entity.

  Awaken her to cut a path through the Red Sea.

  To awaken something greater—

  Something that connected Melishna to The Song…

  To Magthera: Home.

  To the Ever-Shifting Mists: The Mecroaf.

  To awaken Dre’jna Jaenona Le’thrga…

  Rachel whispered the translation that felt written into the fiber of her being…

  “The Forgotten Child of the Lost Symphony… What have I unleashed?”

  Rachel reached out to take the glass, fingers traced the rim, the touch grounding her racing thoughts. The bartender gave her a questioning glance, but she ignored him. She didn’t want the drink; she simply needed a moment to process the weight of so many revelations.

  After a moment, all of it faded away.

  Right now, I can’t think about what I did…because I don’t know if I can even comprehend at this time. Aurora is a wildcard that emotionally slaps me in the face and tells me to look at her…which is just like her… Like the real Aurora would act. Damn, she’s good.

  Anyways, right now, my focus needs to be singular…

  Nam’s bombing.

  The heat rose back up in her chest.

  Fate manipulated things, but it was enacted by people who had no problems doing it.

  That…doesn’t get forgiven.

  Russia was the cause… For what? That will come later. I just need to get to them…

  The in her hands cracked and shattered as her fingers twitched. Crystal clattered to the countertop while recalling the charred visage of her brother. The bartender gave her one glance before amiably moving to clean it up without a word—not a cut made.

  The USSR, Fate’s agents, puppeteers in the shadows—a chain of deals that led directly to Abu Hassan’s trigger finger.

  Rachel flexed her hand, pulling it away to look at her blemishless skin. No calluses, yet touch as steel under her many Feats and Nia’s protection.

  She could feel the fumes of the power that had surged beneath her skin, energy from her earlier channeling still cycling out through her muscles. Not enough to use any of their abilities, yet she should be exhausted, should be feeling something. Instead, a cold, calculated fury propelled her forward.

  A whisper of movement caught her attention, dragging her back to the present. The bartender had moved away, giving her space, seeming to sense she wasn’t there for conversation after Black left. However, there was something else she felt tickling the back of her neck.

  [Grade Advancement - Divine Beast Empowerment III Unlocked]

  [Seventh Sense] told her there was something supernatural observing her. Scarlet was currently scanning the city, looking for her. She wasn’t the one currently studying her like a test subject, though.

  Rachel’s body tensed, coiling like a spring, waiting for what might come next. Her ears stiffened, swiveling to catch the slightest noise as she cast her gaze around the dimly lit interior.

  Nothing.

  Not a soul beside the bartender and music.

  Elbows resting against the back of the bar, she expanded her search.

  Green was talking with General Dallas and there were reports of missing soldiers, even a commanding officer—a lieutenant colonel.

  Black was delving deeper into the alleyways, her lute playing gently, rats scurrying everywhere around the city—searching for something.

  Abruptly, misfortune swirled around her, darkness twisting in areas, unnoticed by the man behind the bar.

  Rachel’s fingers flexed.

  Her breathing evened out.

  Something Eldritch.

  Scarlet’s eyes fell on her—

  The presence faded.

  A smile lifted Rachel’s lips as the tension in her muscles left.

  Afraid of the Vespertine Reaper, are we? I suppose that means she’s your bane. Thanks for letting me know, whoever you are. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.

  The shadows bent.

  The scent of iron coiled through the air, the metallic tang of blood magic sending a jolt through Rachel’s senses. A swirling vortex of crimson emerged out of empty space, causing the bartender to drop his glass to the floor.

  It expanded, becoming smooth as glass.

  Then, Scarlet exited from the rippling red.

  Immediately, the atmosphere changed.

  Ruby-colored eyes burning with excitement and practically vibrating with energy as she strode forward, Scarlet held up a thumb. “I’ve got results, Major Ears!”

  “Excellent job, Major Fangs,” she returned, enjoying the lighter vibe the girl brought. “Did you damage the help?”

  “Not that much,” she grinned.

  She twisted around as Astra followed close behind her—currently in the form of a thin military man. His expression was more controlled, but his eyes razor-sharp with calculation.

  “But nevermind him, Rachel!” Scarlet couldn’t contain herself, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Oh my goddess, there is so much to tell you!”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s crazy—Aurora isn’t really Aurora! She’s an imposter! I knew she was bad news from the start. Classic femme fatale.” Scarlet continued, words tumbling out in a rush. “And Russia—there’s not just one faction—there’s multiple, all competing against each other! Astra thinks it’s actually this figure tied to fate and—”

  Rachel lifted a hand, chuckling dryly as Scarlet grounded her. “Slow down.”

  She watched as Scarlet paused, nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply, blood practically becoming a cyclone behind her and forcing Astra to step away. In an instant, her entire demeanor shifted—shoulders tensing, lips parting in a near-silent snarl, eyes narrowing to slits.

  Her gaze fixated on the spot where the devilish succubus had sat.

  “I smell—Aurora was here,” she hissed, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. She cast her gaze around, no doubt filtering out half the city to find her. “What did she do?! Ugh. That scent of hers is…so strong!”

  Rachel forced a chuckle and rolled around her neck. “It’s fine, Scarlet. You should smell Black, too. She told me what Astra found out about Aurora.”

  Astra puffed out his cheeks and took out another stick of gum to pop it into his mouth. “Well, this complicates everything I thought I knew… It should be impossible for her to be here. I…can’t figure out who she is, but I have my hunches. What a mess. All my projections are falling apart… That’s not new with you, though, to be fair,” he mumbled.

  Head tilting to the side, Rachel sighed, running her fingers through the back of her hair and combing it out. “Let me guess, because she should be in Transylvania right now…infiltrating Dracula’s court with her sister.”

  He scanned the room, placing a hand on his hip in a way that was very unlike a man, frustration bleeding through. “With her sister? Well, that narrows things down more… Still, do you know how many Legends and Myths have sisters? It’s not enough to peg her yet.”

  “Interesting choice of words,” Rachel tiredly snorted. “I’m guessing you haven’t detected a trace of her throughout all of this. If she traveled here, it wasn’t by normal means since I think she can literally teleport…even out of Legend Quests, as she did in Elizabeth’s.”

  Astra’s jaw slackened, bubble half-blown. It popped before he sucked it back in.

  “Out of… Okay, that’s not Legend or Myth powers. That’s deity-level shit. She has to be a—”

  “Mystickin mixed with a Mythickin or Legendkin… Just like Relica,” Scarlet jumped in, looking excited to be following along. “Man, this is insane!”

  Rachel exhaled slowly. “We can talk about this on the way.” She stood in one fluid motion, adjusting her posture as she headed toward the door. “Astra, do you know where we need to go?”

  He nodded once, changing into the form of a younger man with a more serious accent. “Yes, ma’am!”

  Rachel paused and turned to Scarlet by the door, her expression hardening and rethinking her strategy on the fly. “On second thought, go get Maria.”

  The fanged girl hesitated, her crimson eyes scanning her. “I…didn’t want to say anything, but you do look…not great. Internally!”

  Rachel waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t even feel anything. I’m running on whatever I channeled earlier but we can get into that later.” She rolled her shoulders, as if shaking off the concern. “But that’s not why I want Maria. Aurora hinted that it would be too late by the time we got there.”

  Scarlet’s eyes widened slightly, understanding dawning as her blood began to form a portal again. “Oh, cheese crackers. We need to hurry then! Unless…it’s a trap!”

  “Doesn’t matter. Works either way. We need to plan around a massacre,” Rachel finished.

  Her thoughts returned to the Celestial Unicorn. I better prepare myself. Maria is going to punch me in the face when she scans my soul… She’s already pretty drained after trying to heal Nam, too. But I doubt we’ll be able to save whoever is left. What I really need is Maria’s truth-sense… Scarlet’s leaving!

  “Wait!”

  Before she could vanish, Rachel held up a hand, causing the girl to almost trip and fall.

  “H-Huh?”

  “Look, I know you’ve worked really hard getting this information, Scarlet. I don’t want to take it away from you. Have you narrowed it all down to one name for me? Who pulled the strings here?”

  A slow, knowing smile spread across Scarlet’s lips. “Nedolya.”

  “Who?”

  “Confused? I was, too. Astra can explain. Be back soon!”

  Rachel smiled faintly as the blood circled and Scarlet jumped inside, already imagining Maria’s reaction. She had her name, quickening her pulse.

  She’s going to hate me… Nedolya, huh? Now, who are you?

  Leaning against the doorframe, a slight wince crossed her features as she settled her weight. She was swiftly losing strength now.

  “Nedolya,” Rachel repeated, testing the name on her tongue and glancing toward Astra. “Thanks, Scarlet. So, who?”

  Astra crossed his arms. “Who? Well, the Slavic goddess of both fate and misfortune is who.”

  Rachel snorted, then a full laugh rolled through her belly. “Fate and misfortune… Dammit! I can see why your archives would flag that.”

  Astra’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “You suspected it might be a Fate deity” Personally, I thought you’d question that since misfortune sort of…is your thing.”

  “Let’s just say I suspected something was off with Fate,” Rachel replied, reflecting on the dual connection and how it connected to Russia. “But you certainly have more information than you’ve been letting on. You figured it out when I was going beyond the Seventh Wall, without me telling you what I discovered, Astra, which means…you’re holding out on me.”

  Astra avoided her gaze, shifting slightly as a shiver ran down his spine. “Beyond the Seventh Wall… That—why would you tell me that? That’s…impossible.”

  “Astra,” she repeated, pointing at her flashed teeth and expectant gaze. “Focus. I told you because we both know Adele figured out a while ago your plans to escape her and that you were sort of working against her, using us to do it. We can discuss that later. For now, Adele knows we were on the same side. That’s about to change…but we can still be friendly right now.”

  What Rachel didn’t tell him was what she heard General Dallas tell Green. Tom had pulled some strings with the President. And when the President made a demand, agencies asked how high from their executive chief. That surprise would come later.

  The AI’s shoulders drooped. “I guess…that’s that. Okay… I should clarify something first…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t have access to everything in the Scarlet Hand. In fact, I’m quite limited to the scope Adele puts me on. It…was her who told me who to investigate. Are you…going to tell Scarlet?”

  Rachel’s lips curved upward and she slowly shook her head. “Adele, I know you’re watching. I’ll let you stay close enough to see your daughter…but there will be a time when you have to reconcile with her. We both know where Scarlet stands, however you think about me… I look forward to working with you.”

  Astra’s image changed to that of a pretty woman in her mid thirties, but her sharp eyes held a dagger; at some point, the bartender had fled to the back due to the blood, no doubt, as he talked on the military radio, asking for help. They’d arrive by the time all of them were gone.

  “Rachel,” Adele greeted for the first time, her posture controlled. “Despite our differences…what you think about me, everything I do is for the benefit of everyone. I’m a pragmatist, not a dreamer…but I do have a dream. That my daughter will survive. We may be enemies, for now, but…take care of her, until I can open her eyes to what you truly are… How you will destroy her… That you are the true villain in this story.”

  With those words, she was gone, Astra’s male form returning and leaving a pin against Rachel’s chest. So…that’s your mother, Scarlet. Hmm.

  Her thoughts returned to the growing stress she was feeling about her own enigmatic mother, who, just like Scarlet, was hiding deep secrets from her.

  Maybe we’re not so different…and I have to believe my mom is doing all of this for my own benefit… For our family’s. And…wouldn’t I do the same? Wow… I didn’t expect it to hit like this. Whatever the case, I’m sure Revilla is not the heroine of this story.

  If anything, Scarlet is…and Adele doesn’t know she’s working against her daughter’s best interest. Despite all her knowledge… She’s blinded by a vision she had when she was a little girl… And can I really judge her for being groomed? To an extent…but for Scarlet’s sake…

  We’ll see. I’ve made deals with devils before.

  Looking at a depressed and empty Astra—an AI—Rachel showed a small smile. “It’s fine Astra. I’m just saying you’ve confirmed what I suspected.” She moved away from the door, pacing slightly. “You uncovered it through the Scarlet Hand’s documents, and I through my Eldritch connection.

  “It actually makes perfect sense,” she continued, her voice hardening and making the AI pick up the pieces of his collapsing world. “I couldn’t detect the shifts in my misfortune working between my own manipulation and the threads moving because they were misfortune itself. It was so refined I couldn’t see my threads were being plucked themselves.”

  Her tail flicked behind her, agitation visible in the sharp movement. “Misfortune was working against my own misfortune, bending things still in my way, but in the worst possible scenarios.”

  Astra’s brow furrowed. “Does that mean your breaking fate was Nedolya working as Fate against you, or that she was trapped by a higher Fate herself? Did she use her misfortune manipulation…to enjoin yours to break her own fate?”

  Rachel laughed suddenly, the sound sharp in the quiet bar as her bright red eyes fixated on him. “I knew you could keep up. Maybe she’s actually working with Twilight.” She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

  “I get it, Adele! I get it! Twilight was meant to break Fate this whole time, but Cerridwen and my misfortune collided with Nedolya’s providing just enough wiggle room to make your husband realize something was wrong. To make the changes to the ritual. To change Twilight from a slave to a free agent… Twilight merged with Nedolya in the Red Sea. She’s been playing this massive game in the background with other deities and factions to break free herself…”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Her voice dropped lower, the realization solidifying as she turned toward Astra, her ears tilting forward. Her sanity waxing as her eyes spun and she walked to the wall and slammed her forehead against it.

  “I can’t even be mad… Dammit!”

  Damn you, Adele! she internally screamed. I can’t even be mad because…I am the villain. I’m the villain that broke the world to beat Fate.

  “Haha!” Feeling herself spiraling now, she found every piece falling around her as she said, “No wonder Scarlet’s teacher flipped out and went insane… Killed herself and wrote that about me. I am a monster. Cerridwen turned a goddess of fate, haha, against Fate—against the Supreme Fate—by using me.”

  And I bet…I was the one who somehow put Cerridwen in the path of the Ever-Shifting Mists, she internally reasoned. It was me. It was all me.

  Shivers running down her spine as everything began to collapse on top of her, memories of her confrontation with Misfortune’s wide smile and spinning eyes resurfacing. “It’s like I’m trapped between a thousand factions calling my name…”

  She stopped, head and ears pressed against the wall, eyes wide, looking inside herself. I…don’t know who I am. Whose neck to cut… Whose side I’m on… Nam is turning into something else… Mom, everything goes back to you… You tried to stop this. You tried to turn the Seeds away from us from awakening…something else inside us.

  Memories of her childhood, of her mother’s stories flooded back.

  The Limpid Jade Hare… The troublemaking hare that brought misfortune everywhere she went… Am I the Korean Personification of Misfortune…or something even greater?

  Mom… Who am I really?

  I don’t know…

  Mom, that scares me.

  “Rachel?”

  Jolting back to her senses, Rachel closed her eyes and reigned herself in. It took a few breaths, hearing Scarlet having trouble getting Maria to listen past her complaining of the snow and what she’d been through while they’d been running around.

  A small smirk lifted her lips as she pushed it all down and turned toward the stunned AI, now not able to follow her sudden change. “Hmm. Now, it’s anyone’s court. The sharks are in the water.”

  Astra’s expression shifted, a mixture of concern and fascination flickering across his features. “I…don’t understand your outburst, if I’m being honest. In the records I went through, the Scarlet Hand documents do mention a higher fate than the goddesses and gods of fate in the 7th dimension, but all of that was restricted to a higher access facility.”

  He shook his head, frustration evident. “Higher access would probably require Adele’s direct input, and she only gave me access to this repository. You’ve figured something out, though, haven’t you? What even is my purpose if Adele knew I would rebel? I’m unsure what to do after this… She expects me to be close to Scarlet, yet…knows I want freedom? I cannot disobey.”

  Rachel paused, mind racing through possibilities and her smirk widened at the misfortune swirling. She knew Astra was already calculating countless scenarios, but she had her own method of getting information—feeling the tug of misfortune, which now directed her more clearly toward one particular outcome.

  Whatever the case… Anyone who is against me will get what is coming to them. I do what I must. That’s it Scarlet, kick her in her ass and get her moving…or be you. That’s alright, too.

  In the distance, she could hear Scarlet having trouble with Maria. The unicorn girl was agitated, her voice carrying even from afar.

  “—worked like a horse today,” Maria grumbled, making Scarlet giggle.

  “Well, you do have a horse’s tail,” Scarlet teased. “You know—”

  “Aye, chica! Don’t say it,” Maria snapped, Rachel beginning to imagine her glare, almost palpable even through the distance. “Get off my back. Bah!”

  Rachel’s lips twitched at their banter, but her mind remained fixed on the problem at hand. She could hear Scarlet explaining they needed to use the blood portal, Maria’s displeasure evident in her colorful Spanish curses.

  “How can anyone handle this shit—being touched everywhere?” Maria complained. “Brrr! I swear it touches inside my body, chica! Inside me!”

  “Yeah, eesh! That’s a yikes, but, c’mon! Maybe it has something to do with how, you know, you’re basically entirely energy,” Scarlet carefully replied. “You don’t really have blood.”

  There was a beat of silence. “Wait, hold up, fangsly? You never said that shit before!”

  “Oh, I just thought you knew,” Scarlet responded innocently. “Uh, I just didn’t want to say anything, but—”

  Rachel’s attention shifted as her brow furrowed, ears flicking to her right. She heard Black’s voice, quiet and uncertain.

  She called her name.

  “Rachel…I know you can hear me.”

  Rachel didn’t turn immediately, listening intently as Astra went over more information he was compiling. In truth he was spiraling. That would stop soon enough.

  However, Black’s words snatched her mind like a vice.

  “I wasn’t sure if I should say this before,” her voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t sure we were being watched. No, the rats felt her presence. We’ve had this unsettling feeling for a while now, and it’s finally gone.”

  Rachel stiffened slightly, acknowledging the absence of that lingering gaze. The feeling of being observed had vanished when Scarlet arrived, leaving an emptiness that was almost worse than the scrutiny.

  “When I went to meet Aurora before, there was a hag there,” Black continued. “Not just any hag from the fables we usually deal with. There are hags in fable stories, and they’re usually extremely powerful, but this…this was on a whole different level.”

  Rachel felt a chill crawl up her spine, her instincts suddenly on high alert. A hag? Are we talking about, like Snow White’s stepmother? Are we dealing with a Sultan-level hag that escaped a Grim Tale? No, she said it didn’t feel like a fable. Then that means…a Mythickin.

  “I think the hag did something to Red when we went to check out the Scarlet Hand warehouse,” Black explained. “And for her to subdue the Big Bad Wolf…who is one of the most resilient Fable antagonists… It’s concerning. What is more concerning is…I believe she changed Little Red’s Fable.”

  That can happen? Well, shit… But where does all of this fit? This is totally out of left field. If she met with Aurora, then could…she be her sister that she mentioned? Hags, wearing the skin of another Mythickin? It’s possible. No. don’t get ahead of yourself. Just listen…

  No wonder Aurora said we wouldn’t get there in time. Somehow, I just became a complete mess, but I suppose connecting to the Eldritch and meeting…whatever Jaenona is is worth freaking out a little about. And…whatever is happening with me.

  No! I don’t break. I don’t cry… I get shit done.

  Letting [Mental Acceleration] go, the world returned to its normal speed.

  “After going upstairs, Gray and I found Little Red sleeping, with no knowledge of what happened or why she fell asleep or what she was even doing up there in the first place. Red is a Hunter and a Wolf. A hybrid of Grim Tale and Fable… Dracula’s manipulations through half-truths and an experiment, which is why she hates him. She’s very hard to take down.”

  Black’s voice lowered further. “Her cape turned from red to yellow.”

  Okay? Spooky? Rachel internally growled, totally in the dark about most of these other culture’s fables. Is it spooky? Oh, okay…that’s a lot more concerning. Hmm.

  “The Fable is Little Golden-Hood—a variation of Little Red Riding Hood where the girl wears a golden cloak. It is a much older version of Little Red Riding Hood, where the grandmother wasn’t just an old woman…but one of the most powerful witches in fairy tales. One who completely shut down the Big Bad Wolf, transforming him into a frog, and throwing him down a well.”

  Rachel’s ears stiffened. Witches? Witches are new. So when we say hag, we’re talking about top-tier witches? Beyond even that, huh?

  “I have to wonder if this hag changed Little Red’s fable or…activated some deeper level in order to contact the witch of Little Golden-Hood,” Black continued. “She should be benevolent toward Red, but that doesn’t mean benevolent toward anything else. The grandmother would care about Little Red, not the rest of the world or anyone else’s goals.”

  Her voice dropped to its lowest pitch. “In any case, why I’m telling you this is because…I don’t think this is a problem for Fable. This didn’t feel like a Fable or Grim Tale… It felt Eldritch, Rachel, like the beings in Elizabeth’s Legend Quest who almost killed Red.”

  Rachel slowly turned and cut Astra off. “Hey, back to business. What does the Scarlet Hand know about a hag that’s more Eldritch than Fable or Grim Tale? A really frightening one. One who would potentially be involved here with the Russians and with Aurora?”

  Astra went quiet, his expression shifting rapidly. He stared at nothing for a moment, then visibly paled, the gum falling out of his mouth as the blood drained from his face. “I…I’ll be right back. I need to confirm something with Adele.”

  His body stiffened, going almost catatonic. “I’ll be on autopilot until then, but I have to conserve my resources as I do my research. I’ll be back with everything I can find.”

  Well… That jogged him out of his slump. Great. But, if he responds like that, it means Adele told him something to look out for… Will she share it?

  Rachel watched his consciousness retreat, his body remaining upright but his mind clearly elsewhere. Whatever he’d realized had sent him into a full systems search.

  Before she could process more—or return to a breakdown—Scarlet rematerialized, a portal of blood forming beside her. Maria stepped through, grumbling curses in Spanish, her face a mask of irritation.

  “No time for talk, jabbermouth. Let’s go!” Rachel stated, no longer in the mood for delays. “Scarlet, take us to the cabin.”

  “On it!” she chimed, saluting her. “You…okay?”

  “Peachy…”

  As they stepped through the portal, Rachel couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking straight into something beyond any of their understanding—something that had been orchestrated long before they’d even realized the game had begun.

  The last game move of the previous universal order.

  The portal deposited them outside a remote cabin deep in the Montana mountains—at least, that’s what the noise distance to Billings indicated.

  Snow fell in light flurries, dusting the landscape in a deceptive veil of serenity from the gentle breeze. Rachel’s breath fogged in the frigid air as she surveyed the scene, instinctively cataloging every detail.

  Military trucks were parked at haphazard angles, their tire tracks cutting jagged scars through the snow. They'd arrived in a hurry—and at least some had left the same way.

  “?La madre que me parió!” Maria muttered, her teeth chattering as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Why is it always snow, eh? ?Me cago en todo! I hate this cold-ass weather shit!”

  Scarlet sniffed the air, her smile fading. “Blood. A lot of it…and a really bad curse.”

  Rachel’s nose twitched, confirming Scarlet's assessment. The metallic tang hung in the air, mingling with gunpowder and something else—something older and more unsettling that she couldn’t quite place.

  “Stay alert,” she murmured, moving toward the cabin with purposeful strides.

  The door hung by a single hinge, bullet holes perforating the wooden frame. Inside, a radio crackled with static, a distant voice calling out status reports that no one answered.

  “—Copy that, still no sign of the missing team. HQ, do we have authorization to—”

  The transmission was interrupted by a weak, wheezing cough.

  Rachel stepped through the threshold, her eyes instantly adjusting to the dimness.

  Bodies lay strewn throughout the small space, blood pooling beneath them on the rough wooden floor. Some were slumped over chairs, others collapsed against walls. The scent of death was overwhelming. Scarlet’s throat constricted, and her left fang poked through her lip, trying to restrain herself.

  “Dios mío, ?qué pinche desmadre!” Maria whispered, making the sign of the cross. “It’s a damn slaughterhouse. Like those cholos from East LA got beef with the whole damn army.”

  Scarlet’s expression darkened as she surveyed the carnage. “What the hell happened here? This had to be clean-up, right?”

  Astra remained motionless behind them, his consciousness still withdrawn, leaving only an empty shell to follow them through the motions.

  Rachel’s ears swiveled toward the source of the cough—they’d found the missing lieutenant colonel by his uniform. He lay slumped in the corner, clutching his side. Blood seeped between his fingers, staining his already darkened uniform.

  “Wait—that’s the guy!” Scarlet hissed, her voice dropping to a growl as her blood flowed out to hover over him like a guillotine. “Lieutenant Colonel Shane…or as Astra and I found out from my mom’s records—the Legend of Benedict Arnold.”

  Rachel moved across the room, careful to avoid the pools of blood. She crouched before the wounded man, studying his face and recognizing the name from history—the man who betrayed the U.S. in the Revolutionary War and joined the British.

  His skin was ashen, eyes glassy with pain yet somehow triumphant.

  “Huh. A U.S. lieutenant colonel who sold his soul to the Russians,” Rachel flatly mumbled. “Interesting that you chose the USSR instead of Britain.”

  The man chuckled, wincing as the motion pulled at his wound. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “Not quite correct, Lady Misfortune,” he wheezed, his voice surprisingly steady despite his condition. “I’m a servant of His Royal Majesty who will retake the crown…but here, I’m infiltrating the USSR on behalf of the Kremlin…who I’m also infiltrating. Obviously, not well, ladies. Wouldn’t you say?” he laughed at that, a wet, rattling sound that ended in a pained grimace.

  Maria dropped to her knees beside him, pressing her hands over his wound. Almost immediately, horn flaring to life. Yet, she quickly jerked back as if burned.

  “?Chingada madre! What the—” Her eyes widened in shock. “Fangs was right. Shit’s cursed! It’s in the blood.” She switched to rapid Spanish, cursing fluently as she wiped her bloodied palms on her jeans. “A Tyrfing curse? ?No mames, güey! I can’t heal this shit!”

  Scarlet shrugged. “I told you. I can probably drink it but it would make me a bit sick.”

  The unicorn looked up at Rachel, genuine distress in her eyes. “Aye, look. I need a stronger miracle. I got the points, chica…but I don’t got the energy. ?Esta mierda está loca! This kind of curse is insane.”

  The man laughed again, a sound that morphed into another wet cough. “She finally gets it… I’m a deadman.”

  “Tyrfing,” Scarlet repeated, her expression grim. “What is that?”

  All of them shrugged, including Shane.

  Rachel's stomach tightened. “Whatever it is, if it’ll make Scarlet sick, then it’s probably something close to something that could wound a deity—to kill Nike,” she muttered, keeping her distance from the blood spatters.

  “If you want answers, we should bargain quickly,” Maria warned. “He’s not going to last long, ese.”

  Rachel leaned closer to the dying man, being sure to be ready to act if he tried to lunge. “Let’s make a deal. You clearly want something.”

  Shane’s bloodied lips curved into a smile. “Smart girl. Of course, you would be with the reputation you have floating around the USSR. I’ll do a trade if you promise to deliver a message to Russia, to the Kremlin, and the UK for me… It’ll get to my king. The more heat I can put on the, ack…on the USSR, the better.”

  “Fair. I can respect it. But…so long as it doesn’t cause any direct harm to the United States,” Rachel countered.

  He shook his head weakly. “It’s not about the United States. Shit, you’ll want to hear this. It’s a warning about the USSR and the kind of powers backing them… What I’ve discovered.”

  Rachel glanced at Maria, who nodded slightly. “Ese vato está diciendo la verdad. He’s straight.”

  “Okay,” Rachel agreed, “if you’ll divulge the information I want.”

  “You drive a hard bargain,” Shane chuckled, “but you hold all the cards. Very well.”

  He shifted against the wall, grimacing as fresh blood seeped through his fingers. “I will die this night. I know it. Whoever they sent—Boris Yuvin, the legend from the Russian-Soviet era, and Kuzin Tosin, the super spy—didn’t even have the balls to kill us themselves. Bloody wankers.”

  His lip curled in disgust. “Instead, they contracted out the Volstekkers. V-O-L-L-S-T-E-C-K-E-R-S.” He spelled it out deliberately, each letter emphasized through bloodied teeth. “They contracted Babel instead of handling it themselves, but I guess that makes sense. They didn’t want to be in Billings when you returned. Some cowboy and dark knight shit.”

  Rachel committed the name to memory—they’d already heard about Babel from Elizabeth—watching as the man’s breathing grew more labored. Time was running out.

  “What do you want to know? Who went after your brother? Yeah, well, that was the Kremlin actually. It was the mission we were assigned before the bloody USSR hijacked the whole operation for some other purpose…and used us as bait.”

  A focused inferno rose within Rachel’s chest, her eyes reflecting the flaming tornado she’d seen erupt around her older brother. So… It wasn’t the USSR. It was the Russian State. Okay. Game on… You’re on my list.

  “We had to run,” he coughed, continuing his story. “These soldiers…weren’t all that bad to be honest. Good fellas, doing the work of warmongers. Shit…this hurts.

  “As for the thing I need you to tell the Kremlin,” he continued, coughing up more blood, “is that there’s a…hag. And she talks with someone—talks with something. Someone even she’s afraid of, but she’s one bad thing… A real monster.”

  Fear flickered across his face—genuine terror that made even Rachel’s skin crawl.

  “The USSR have made a deal with her,” he wheezed through chattering teeth. “I know who she is, and I’m scared to say her name…but I’ll say it, dammit.” He drew in a wheezing breath. “The USSR is working with—”

  “The Myth of Baba Yaga,” Astra’s voice cut through the silence, suddenly animated. His eyes were wide, body rigid with a fear she’d never seen in him before. “Rachel, we need to talk about this… You used all of your moons, didn’t you? This is bad. This is very bad.”

  * — * — *

  Thin flakes of snow drifted through the Montana night, coating the pine trees in a pristine white that belied the violence unfolding beneath their branches this night.

  Nikolay Kuznetsov stood with his hands in his pockets, cigarette dangling from his lips, the ember glowing a defiant red against the darkness. His breath mingled with the smoke, creating ghostly tendrils that dissipated into the cold air.

  Utterly unconcerned by the freezing temperature, his posture remained relaxed; it was nothing to his homeland—nothing to the biting embrace of the motherland.

  Beside him, Boris Yuvin maintained a careful distance, his eyes constantly scanning the perimeter. Nikolay’s keen eyes kept careful track of the Legend of Bloody Bill as he poured over the contract. The task was done and the hitmen-for-hire made shocking time in getting to them.

  Kuznetsov took a long drag, the cigarette bobbing as he spoke. “Is everything to your satisfaction?”

  Bloody Bill flipped through the pages with gloved fingers, his weathered face impassive beneath the shadow of his hat. The notorious gunslinger—a legend from the Civil War era whose reputation had only grown more fearsome with time—finally let out a dry chuckle.

  “You Russians sure like making things complicated. Not as complicated as the West has become under this pussy-ass leadership. Not even slavery these days for an easy mark, shiiit. World’s ripe for the pickings these days, though.” He tucked the contract into his coat. “Got it all figured out, huh? The payout’s generous, I’ll give ya that, but you’re playin’ it close, aren’t ya?”

  Kuznetsov didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he exchanged a glance with Boris before tapping his cigarette, watching ash fall to the snow. The spymaster adjusted his gloves, smoke curling from his nostrils as he exhaled.

  “It is not a game of risks, Bill. It is a game of inevitabilities.”

  Behind Bill, the silent knight stood motionless, a towering figure in black armor whose presence seemed to absorb what little starlight penetrated the deep forest. The knight hadn’t spoken a word, yet his very stillness radiated menace.

  Bill spat into the snow, shifting the rifle on his shoulder. “I don’t got a clue what you boys talk about half the time. Payments payment, though. The Tower will be happy. That means a good time for my—aww, shit…”

  The words had barely left his mouth when the air changed.

  A vibration—too deep to hear, yet somehow felt in their bones—rippled through the earth. The trees groaned and swayed, bending away from something moving through the mist. A buzz of insects filled the rattling needles, the sound soon escalating to drown out everything else.

  Kuznetsov took another unhurried drag of his cigarette, though his eyes narrowed slightly. Boris tensed beside him, one hand slipping toward a concealed weapon.

  Through the fog emerged a monstrous silhouette—a house on massive chicken legs, stalking silently through the forest. The very trees seemed to recoil from its presence, creating a path where none had existed before.

  The cigarette remained steady between Kuznetsov's lips, though his pulse quickened imperceptibly. No matter how many times he witnessed her arrival, it never became easier.

  When the house stopped, its door creaked open. A long, jagged shadow spilled onto the snow, stretching toward them like spilled ink.

  Then, she emerged.

  stepped into the night, her form draped in black, movements too fluid to be entirely human. Her void-like eyes surveyed them, her smile unnaturally slow—as if she were remembering how human expressions worked.

  When she spoke, her voice carried multiple tones beneath the primary one, as if other entities were speaking with her.

  “Everything proceeds as planned.”

  Kuznetsov drew deeply on his cigarette, the red glow illuminating his face briefly. He kept his expression neutral despite the primal fear crawling up his spine.

  The hag’s head tilted at an unnatural angle, her gaze settling on him and Boris. “But tell me…why have you left Eden alive, members of Babel? She is one of your targets, yes… As am I?”

  The question hung in the freezing air. The cigarette in Kuznetsov’s mouth went still. He hadn’t known that last part.

  Even the Silent Knight shifted uneasily, the armor creaking like something alive.

  Bloody Bill’s expression darkened, but he tried a smile. “You Russians…always interfering where you shouldn’t. Ya know we got a list, huh? Shiiit. Eden is a crafty one. Too much trouble right now with her, eh…backin’ within the Tower. You’d know ‘bout that, though.

  “And you? Well…” He spat into the snow again, deliberately farther from the hag this time. “If you weren’t an Eldritch nightmare, hag, I’d shoot ya and collect the bounty myself, but, uh, yeah… You gotta know when to read the room in this business.”

  Baba Yaga chuckled.

  The sound was not human. It resembled bones shifting, insects rustling beneath flesh—as if something ancient and hungry were remembering a joke long forgotten.

  Kuznetsov removed the cigarette, grinding it beneath his heel. With practiced calm, he withdrew another, lighting it with steady hands despite the unnatural cold that had descended with the hag’s arrival. “Our business with Babel’s mercs is over. You two can leave.”

  Even the Silent Knight took a step back, Bloody Bill’s hand instinctively moved toward his revolver as he slowly walked away. “Yeah, we’ll be on our way, boys and…pretty lady—damn that mask of humanity is terrifying—I mean lovely… Yeah. Lovely.”

  Not responding, he waited until the pair vanished in a swirl of some unknown force that Babel used to transport their people around. They’d hired the knight. How they got stuck with Bill was a curse from Fate but that was over.

  He turned back to the hag. “Did you get what we needed?” he asked, returning the cigarette to his lips.

  Baba Yaga’s smile widened—too wide, too slow. She extended a pale hand, her fingers unnaturally long, nails gleaming like talons in the moonlight.

  From her palm, something bloomed.

  A flower. But nothing that should exist in this world.

  It shifted between states, flickering between solid, gas, and something unknowable—shifting in its life cycle as if unsure where it was in time. Its petals pulsed with an energy that made the air around it warp, as if reality itself recoiled from its touch—a force that swallowed all hope.

  Kuznetsov’s cigarette remained steady, but he felt his mouth go dry.

  “Misfortune. Divine. Infernal. Eldritch. A divine horror…” Baba Yaga’s voice caressed each word like a lover. “One of the rarest forces in existence. The hare was…magnificent. A piece of the force that went beyond the 7th Wall, as I promised I could obtain.”

  She closed her fingers around the flower, and it vanished. Her void-like eyes settled on Kuznetsov once more. “And now…we have it.”

  Boris cleared his throat. “The extraction team will be here soon.”

  Kuznetsov nodded, taking another drag. “And our British spy friend should have delivered the message you wanted him to.”

  “I sense your question… Hmm-hmm-hmm. Benedict Arnold played his role to perfection,” Baba Yaga confirmed, her smile knowing. “The Hare of Misfortune now follows the trail we’ve laid. Her own power is her greatest enemy…and way to liberation. The truth leads to dark paths…”

  The house behind Baba Yaga groaned, its massive legs bending as it lowered itself to the ground. The door creaked wider, a sliver of amber light spilling onto the snow as the hag gave both of them the most terrifying smile Kuznetsov had experienced—almost human.

  “No need for extraction… You will come inside,” Baba Yaga announced, turning toward the house. It wasn’t a request. “I’ve made tea… If you dare to drink it.”

  Her laughter echoed through the trees as she disappeared back into the impossible structure.

  Kuznetsov took one final, long drag of his cigarette before crushing it beneath his boot. The ember twisted and died in the snow, its glow nothing compared to the unholy light now emanating from the house on chicken legs.

  With a resigned nod to Boris, he stepped forward. “For the motherland,” he murmured, though he wasn’t entirely sure which motherland he served anymore with the number of Russian factions he’d infiltrated.

  The howling wind carried away his words as they approached the hag's domain, leaving behind only footprints that were already being erased by the falling snow.

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