Genesis Locorum

A couple days later, at Lydia’s request, Emily greets Charlotte and some of the children, using her avatara body. She takes the time to play tag with them. One of the spiderlings touches her, making her “it” and the other kids run away from her. Emily scurries around, trying to find one, but the tunnels and webs in her dungeon body make it difficult to tag one, as the spiderlings cling to the webs and Charlotte and the mice-like children hide in the tunnels.

Lydia sands by, a little jealous that the children are listening to Emily more than her, but glad to see them having fun.

As Emily enjoys herself, she is reminded of the reason why some of these kids are even here. She wonders what she should do with the ones from Hamlin.

Meanwhile, Charlotte hides in one of the tunnels. Her mind is burdened by what her mother had done, how she had herself executed in a faked death to sate the vengeance of the village. She sighs as she sees one of them, Ella Guajardo, sitting next to her with a smile on her face. Bereft of any memory of her life as a citizen of Hamlin.

She then sees several of her once-schoolmates scale their walls, chasing the spiderlings. Matthew Moss, son of the butcher, Shirley Lorenzo, younger sister of one of the younger Gerdarmarie. Bessie Shelton, daughter of an aspiring comedian.

She knew these names because they told her, because now that they are amnesiac, they saw her as simply another child like them, she knows who their families are because Euryale and Stheno had told her, so they could try to rouse these dormant and sealed memories.

Henry Andino, Oliver Wexly, Nancy Najera, Lonnie Clemmons, Holly Ogden, Dexter Marley, all of these and more, were abducted by the Piper and sealed inside the Black Box as Cells.

Ella notices Charlotte’s forlorn face. “Something on your mind?” she says with the smile of an innocent child. Charlotte shies away from Ella.

“Tag! You’re it!”

Emily had tagged Ella. The young girl turns around and sees the young girl run away, vanishing into the walls. She then turns around and sees Charlotte still walking away. She rushes to tag her, her brown locks, adorned with a pink bow, are lifted by the momentum of her body rushing to the young Alraune, but Charlotte is too lost in her thoughts to notice.

“Tag!”

Ella had successfully tagged Charlotte. The exclamation brings her back to reality as she turns and finds Ella running away from her with a cheeky smile.

A while later. Charlotte meets up with Ella, hoping to try to rouse her memories as she has been since last night. With her are Euryale and Stheno.

“You sure you don’t remember this?” Euryale hands her a drawing, her attempted recreation of the village. Ella looks at the image.

“It’s a pretty image!” Ella says.

“Do you remember it?” Stheno says.

“Huh?” Ella says. “Of course I do! I remember you drawing it this morning.”

Euryale places her palm on her head in frustration.

“Let’s try another thing,” Charlotte whispers. She then turns to Ella. “Ella, do you remember where the ‘Guajardo’ part of your name came from?”

Ella racks her head. “Hmm, that does seem odd.”

A small smile beams on Charlotte. “Yes,” she thinks. “Come on you can do this. Remember, Ella!”

“Oh yeah, Emily gave it to me!” Ella says. “Why do you ask?”

The other three collapse on the floor. Ella stares at them confusedly.

Nina arrives. “Hi, guys!”

“Hi, Nina,” Charlotte says.

Ella looks at Nina’s blades with awe and curiosity. “Where did you get these blades, they’re so cool!”

“Revotos’ Valley!” Nina says proudly.

“Huh, that sounds familiar.”

Charlotte stands up. “Is this it?” She thinks “Could this be the thread that can help them remember?”

“That’s right!” Ella says. “Emily told us about the valley. How was it?”

A look of disappointment floods Charlotte’s face as Euryale and Stheno return to an upright posture.

Nina looks at Charlotte. “What’s up, Lotte?”

“Nothing,” she says sarcastically.

“You’ve been doing nothing all day?” Nina says, missing the sarcasm. “Wanna help me take care of the webs?”

Everyone but Ella sighs.

✦✦✦

After a day of play with the children, Emily returns to her dungeon body. She focuses on the core room and the five Spheres inside. The Pyrosphere, her most recent one, serves as a reminder of what had recently occurred.

Elizabeth arrives at the core room. “How was your playtime with the kids?”

“It went well,” Emily’s voice echoes to Elizabeth. “But still.” “If this form could sigh…” she thinks.

“Still stuck on the Hamlin kids?” Elizabeth says. “I understand.”

“Lizzie,” Emily says. “What do we do with them?”

“We could deactivate them,” Elizabeth says. “Put them in suspended animation.”

“I can do that?” Emily says.

“Of course,” Elizabeth says as she conjures up a pod from the walls. “Cells can be deactivated to conserve mana, as long as they’re in one of these. It’s also handy for if Sentinels need to regenerate as well.”

Emily looks at the pod. She considers the option for a few moments. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. I don’t want to treat them as objects.”

“Fine then,” Elizabeth dispels the pod and it disintegrates into pieces that sink into the floor. Ripples from where the pieces made contact and spread outwards before flattening.

“Besides,” Emily says. “Charlotte and the twins want to try to restore their memories.”

“That’s a bit of a challenge.” Elizabeth shows Emily the device with the two trees. “The amnesia is an effect of Pruflas’ [Bardsong] and it’s proving to be difficult to break. Even Minerva’s eyes couldn’t break the lock.”

The walls grow more porous letting more air in before solidifying again.

“Oh, so that’s how you do it,” Emily thinks.

✦✦✦

Tim meditates inside one of Emily’s rooms. He focuses on the memory of Chiron’s wind shield. He focuses on his encounter with the priest.

“You sure you don’t want to think about your triumph over that adventurer group instead,” Emily’s voice echoes to him, creaking his concentration.

“Emily,” Tim says, trying to focus. “I’m sure.”

“Fine,” Emily says.

Tim takes a deep breath and focuses on his memory of the battle. He takes his Qiang and opens his eyes. She uses his earth spells to lift parts of the room and suspend them in midair.

“Ow,” Emily’s says. “We could provide some rocks you know!”

Tim ignores her. He forces one of the rocks to catapult towards him. His mind is focused on Chiron’s shield. “He used Bardsong to create it,” he thinks.

The rock moves closer and closer to Tim. He tries to conjure a wind shield, the same as his opponent from that day. The bolder moves closer with each passing moment.

Tim assumes a horse stance and then moves his arms. But the bolder makes contact and knocks him back several feet.

Tim scoffs at the failure.

“Maybe we should ask Elizabeth to—“ Emily says.

“It’s fine,” Tim interrupts.

The walls let more air in monumentality.

“Learned to sigh?” Tim says in a slightly teasing manner. “Maybe with a bit more mana you’ll unlock more bodily functions.”

“Someone’s got jokes,” Emily says.

Tim chuckles as he resumes his attempts to craft a shield of air.

Another bolder makes contact, bringing his towards the wall. He tries again, this time suing his legs, but the next boulder was undeterred and he had to resort to breaking it with a palm strike. The shrapnel embeds themselves to the walls and disappears inside them.

Heathcliff arrives and sees Tim’s next effort on creating a wind shield fail, the boulder knocking him on the head and doesn't him lying down on the ground.

“Drat!” Tim says.

“Still at it huh?” Heathcliff says.

“Well its not like we have any pests to distract me this time,” Tim says, referring to the monsters.

“How did it go?” Emily says.

“The Ebony Guards approved my request, we are free to enter the city starting next week,” Heathcliff says. “Rosenkreuz is also looking into getting our little entrance there registered as well.”

“I’m sure Richard will be pelased,” Emily says.

“He was pretty ecstatic when I told him, cher,” the knight says.

Meanwhile, Richard is already packing things for his trip to Noir, while Sarah looks over pamphlets provided by the guild.

“Ooh,” Sarah says. “They got thirty seven high class restaurants!”

Richard pays his gluttonous sister little mind as he packs several books on potential designs and references, most of the pages blank.

“Master Richard?” Keith arrives. “I understand the desire to head to the city, but don’t you think its bit early?”

“Ah Keith,” the dark-skinned dwarf says. “Tis better to over-prepare then under-prepare, I say.”

“I suppose so,” Keith says. “But do be mindful of you’re studies.”

Richard, confused by the Arachne man’s advice looks at his clock and realizes it is time for his hairdressing practices. “Shoot you’re right! This will have to wait for now.” He follows Keith, certian thsi his packing will resume later in the evening.

✦✦✦

Recently, the replica of Carla’s home had been renovated, and instead of a simulacrum of Douglas’ whimsical architecture, it now more closely resembles a walled garden. With sleek black and green walls surrounding a collection of colorful flowers. At the corners of the room lie fountains made of metal, but built to resemble black marble. The walls were lined with constructs resembling the roots of trees, spawning through the ebon walls and bearing elements of circuit patterns.

Carla tends to be one of the hippogryphs in her far, as well as the deer Emily first encountered in Tarantulapolis. She observes the cervine beast. Its body has been mutated by the cordyceps fungus for a long time.

“The deer likely passed on long ago,” Carla says. “Nothing more than a zombie now.”

She sees several patterns on the cervine corpse, the patterns resemble the effects of mutation on the other fauna that now lives in Emily, and sees to prevent the fungal parasite from spreading beyond the confines of the deer’s body.

“Carla?” Emily’s voice echoes to Emily.

“Yes?” the Alraune says.

“I got a message from the guild,” Emily says. “They say that someone will be coming here to challenge us soon.”

“Oh,” Carla remembers that to pull off her trick and survive, she had offered her services as a Sentinel. The challenger would be her first test in the role. “Did they give you any descriptions?”

“A simple one,” Emily says. “A young cicada girl clad in armor.”

“Interesting,” Carla says. “She looks over the repertoire of beasts that she was hired to maintain. The Tatzelwurms, the hippogryphs, the chimeras, the mountain lions, the dire wolves, even the zombie deer beside her.

“I’ll make preparations at once, thank you,” Carla says.

After a while, Emily speaks again. “Carla, I—“

“What is it dear?” Carla says.

“I was wondering if you have any idea what to do about…”

“The Hamlin children?” Carla says. Yes, the little ones, abducted from Hamlin, the reason she had ended up leaving the village, and the reason she had returned.

“Yes,” Emily says.

The two talk about the unconformable topic of what to do with the children until they are freed. Until Emily can gather enough mana to release them from the chains that bound them to her. Until she can undo the demon’s machinations that caused this turn of events.

“…You say you can put them in suspended animation?” Carla says.

“According to Elizabeth, yes,” Emily says. “But I told her I don’t want to treat them like objects.”

“It would at the very least keep them safe from harm when our visitors come,” Carla says. “Are there any other concerns?”

Emily hesitates for a bit. “What do we do, if it turns out their memories cannot be retrieved? If they remain in their current states?”

Carla senses regret in her voice, a feeling she’d hoped she had given the events that occurred. “Regardless of the demon’s actions. We must bear responsibility for our own hands in it. Though you were tricked, you still absorbed the pipe. Do not forget that. Do not grow complacent to their presence, but at the same time, do not alienate them either. It is our responsibility to take care of them until we can restore them to their previous state. If you have need of my help, do not hesitate to ask.”

Emily mulls over these words. “Thank you, Carla.”

“My pleasure, dear,” Carla says.

The dungeon grows silent. Carla finishes looking after the deer and the hippogryph. “We’ll have work to do soon,” she gently says to the beasts before they go, understanding their upcoming task.

While her new home was changed, the layout remains identical to Carla’s original home, with a kitchen, two bedrooms, a living room with a fireplace, and several rooms dedicated to tending to the monsters and beasts. Carla heads to the kitchen, her muscle memory helping her navigate the otherwise disorienting techno-organic aesthetic of the kitchen. As she grabs some meat from the coolers, she glances over a picture of her family. Her, her sister, her daughter, and her husband. A tear falls from her face as she reminiscences about her life in Hamlin, a life upended by mistrust and deceit, and the death of her husband. She wonders who had been so cruel, so callous as to kill Samuel in cold blood.

A few hours later, after Stella receded from the horizon, she visits Charlotte’s room. She turns on the lights and looks over the bedroom. Instead of a bed, a special construct lies in the corner. It was designed at Elizabeth’s insistence. The fairy had claimed that the device would allow better circulation of the mana in their Alraune bodies and that they would have a good night’s rest. Yet the humor of the resemblance to a potted plant was not lost on Carla.

Little Charlotte Truce stands in the device, her legs concealed by a cylindrical chamber that reaches up to her waist. Her upper body was hidden by her indigo petals, now made to curl upwards by the shape of the cylinder’s top. Like a flower yet to bloom. Clara moves the petals to see her daughter’s face, her eyes shut, and even if they were open, they would surely be glazed over. Her breathing and heart rate slows as the Alraune child slumbers.

The device plays a slight tune inaudible to Carla, actually a lullaby-like Bardsong that puts Charlotte into a trance when the device activates. A trance that serves to lock Charlotte into a deep sleep until the device deactivates. A timer sits to the side of the device, Clara looks at it and finds that six and a half hours are left until the device automatically deactivates and rouses Charlotte. Right next to it is a screen that shows Charlotte’s vital signs.

She leaves the device and Charlotte alone, turning off the lights. She then heads to her own room. Slightly larger than Charlotte’s, but another device, similar to the one in Charlotte’s room, but taller. The cylinder opens as Carla approaches, revealing a hollow interior and two layers of metal. The layers have a ninety-degree hole In their circular shapes. A point of ingress for the Alraunes to enter when they sleep and a point of egress for them when they awaken.

Carla sets the timer for six hours before entering the chamber. The device’s two layers turns in opposite directions before locking in place. The top of the pot-like device then construes. Its inner edge moves towards Carla’s waist as it raises her skirt-like petals along the way. The device moves up her chartreuse petals as it squeezes her midsection. The devices warms as a slow tune begins to play. A Bardsong spell that plays on a loop ensures Carla drifts off to sleep. She closes her eyes as her heart and respiratory rates slows down.

✦✦✦

The next day, a lone Magical Girl is locked in combat with the giant Tarantula. The girl collides with the wall, having been knocked into it midflight. The force of the collision stuns her as she falls to the ground. She soon stands up.

“Come on, Cynthea,” she mutters. “Get it together!”

Clad in brown armor, her wings lifted her into the air. She looks around the area. Her blond tresses, tied in two tails, are moved by the fluttering of her wings. She draws a metallic card from a deck, attached to her hips. The card bears the image of an astrological sign resembling an arrow.

“Okay, Sagittarius,” Cynthea says. “That means I’m working with Phaeton’s deck. I can work with that!”

She turns the face of the metal card towards the Tarantula and holds it out. The card transform shines a radiant light before fading. Cynthea’s armor changes with the power of the card as a bow manifests in her hand.

Her armored abdomen also changes as she flies around the room. The tarantula construct’s leg and makes contact with her. She tries to fire an arrow of lightning at the boss, but her shot misses and hits the ceiling.

She lets out a yelp as the leg collides with her again and pins her to the wall. The eyes of the mechanical spider face her.

Sweat drops from Cynthea’s tanned forehead as she struggles to move her leg. Adrenaline surges through her, the seconds feel like minutes as she anticipates the next attack. As the constructed wind sup a beam, Cynthea notices a glimmer and turns her head towards it, She sees a sphere connecting the leg to the rest of the mechanical spider. She struggles to move her arm as her bow rematerializes in her fist. Her other arm is unable to move.

“Drat,” She thinks. “What do I do?” the insectoid knight realizes that the drawstring is close to her head and has an idea.

She bites her drawstring. The mana-filled string, causes her teeth and tongue to feel a burning sensation as she aims her bow at the joint.

“Keep steady, keep steady,” she thinks as the machine almost finishes winding up its attack. She soon lines the bow with her target as an arrow forms above her outstretched arm.

“Now!” She opens her mouth and releases the drawstring. The enchanted arrow flies and embeds itself to the orb. Lightning magic emerges from the arrow and jolts the boss. Causing its grip on Cynthea to loosen. She uses her legs to push the leg back and falls. Her wings keep her in the air as she zips around the room and fires a volley of arrows at the joint. The onslaught of lightning-empowered arrows causes the joint to be destroyed and the leg to be severed.

“Okay, cut the legs,” Cynthea thinks. “Got it!”

The tarantula now has seven legs left. It lets loose a mechanical growl.

Meanwhile, Heathcliff looks on high. “Hmm, maybe she’s ready for the petribeams?”

“No,” Emily’s voice echoes out to her. “You know those are supposed to be used for protecting my core Heathcliff.”

“Ah come on, cher,” the knight says. “It’ll be fun.”

“I said, no,” Emily says.

Cynthea’s bow soon fades and the card returns.

“Terrific,” she sarcastically thinks. She turns to the spider. “Draw!” she shouts as she pulls another card from her deck. The card she drew has a symbol resembling a reticle.

“Reticulum!” she shouts as she holes the card out. The card vanishes as her vision changes. She now has the ability to see the weaknesses of the machine, and her attacks can now hone in on them.

“Draw!” she draws a third card. The metallic card reveals a symbol resembling a Lyre.

“Lyra?” Her face makes a shocked expression. “But my Bardsong sucks!” she thinks.

The card vanishes and a lyre instrument forms in her hand. She groans as she strums the notes. Her off-tune notes manifest as inaccurate bolts of lightning that only hit the joint because of the effects of the Reticulum card, and only barely at that.

Heathcliff covers his ears. Emily unfortunately is unable to protect herself from the bad music or the lighting that hits her walls. She is stung by both.

A while later, Cynthea’s vision returns to normal and the lyre fades from her arms. “Okay, Phaeton, work with me here!” she shouts.

Emily observes the fight. The tarantula is missing a leg but is otherwise proving difficult for her visitor to defeat.

“Draw!” Cynthea draws another card. The sigil on it resembles half of an arrow.

“Saggita!” she shouts as she turns the card. A gigantic bow materializes with her as the arrow. She turns the giant bow towards some of the cores. Her body pumps with adrenaline as she tries to get them just right.

“Steady now,” she thinks as her breathing intensifies. The drawstring of the gigantic bow pulls her back as she attempts to lock onto the targets. “Steady…” A few seconds pass.

The gigantic bow wraps her in lightning as it prepares to fire. Cynthia places her legs on the drawstring. Her armored boots pin it to the floor as the bow stays suspended in the air. Her labored breaths grow more frequent as she takes aim at the joints. Her wings begin to vibrate as she prepares to unleash her shot.

“Now!” She makes a mighty leap, catapulted by the bow, and collides with the joint. The levin-powered Cynthea severs the second leg from the machine. She then tries to turn, arcing her attack towards a third and cutting it off. She then tries again but misses the fourth leg by a hair. Before she could try to correct her path, she slammed into a wall before hitting the fifth leg.

Her impact causes her head to slam into the wall and knocks her unconscious. Gravity peels her body from the wall and lets her fall to the ground with a thud.

The construct has five legs left. And it proceeds to use one of them to pin the knight down. The leg hovers over the unconscious Cynthea, exerting enough weight to prevent her from moving without killing her. Cynthea soon wakes up and realizes that she is trapped as she struggles to move the leg of the machine, and she tries to wriggle her way out from beneath the leg. A card is loosened and falls from the top of her deck. The card, bearing a glyph that resembles a fly, glows. Cynthea’s eyes turn to the card and its sigil. A sense of dread washes over her face as she knows what is to come next.

The cicada girl vanishes, and the leg is held in midair. The machine is left confused as to what happened as motes of light surround it. A swarm of smaller insects emerge from the motes. Smaller versions of Cynthea, act as a single unit as they attack the leg joints. Slowly corroding the remaining five joints over the course of five minutes.

One by one the legs fall and the Tarantula is unable to fight back. The Musca card’s effect soon wanes as the swarm converges into eh shape of Cynthea and transforms back into her.

“Out of all the cards—“ Her mind is hazy as if overloaded by the senses of a myriad of beings. Her disoriented movements cause her to fall to the ground, dazed by the aftereffects of the Musca card.

Her disorientation soon fades and Cynthea stands back up. She sees that the tarantula is defeated with an hour and twenty minutes left on the time. She breathes a sigh of relief. “At least this thing is defeated,” she says. Cynthea’s wings lift her into the air as a door opens. She soon hears the giggle of her familiar.

“Not bad for your first real use of the Stardecks” the voice of a phantasmal sprite-like being whispers to Cynthea. Her appearance resembles a mishmash of various insectoid features, some similar to Cynthea’s like the abdomen, the antennae, and the wings, but she lacks human legs and instead has multiple insect-like ones. Her blond hair is tied up similar to Cynthea herself, and her sea-form green eyes are close to the more emerald hue of Cynthea’s. Her pale skin is a stark contrast with the larger Magical Girl.

“Thank you, Diana,” Cynthia says to the smaller familiar.

Another one pops up. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”. Unlike the other familiar she is bipedal, with two human legs. But her tanned skin is closer to Cynthea’s Her most notable differences are her amber eyes and her wearing a shirt that evokes the image of a moth. She points in the direction of a chest that emerged after the Tarlatula’s defeat.

Cynthea looks at the chest and realizes she has forgotten to loot its content. “Oops! Thanks Hecate!”

Cynthea flutters to the chest and opens it, finding a single lump of Bismuth, an assortment of carnelians and malachites, a spool of Dreamthread, and more importantly for her a broadsword. She takes up the heavy blade.

“Do we need to have a sword?” Diana asks.

Cynthea makes a cocky smile as she faces the familiar. “Of course! It couldn't hurt to hedge my bets with how unreliable the cards are.”

“She’s got a point,” Hecate says with a cheerful but knowledgeable smile. “The Stardeck is a powerful art, but it can never be guaranteed to give the right effect.”

The Magical Girl and her two familiars head deeper into the dungeon.

✦✦✦

Meanwhile, Carla prepares a pack of dire wolves to greet their guest.

“Be gentle, please,” Carla says with a maternalistic tone. “We want to repel her, not kill her.”

The wolves heed her request as they set off to stalk their prey.

Meanwhile, Cynthea heads deeper into the dungeon, the colors of the walls shifting to a slightly more purple-blue as she flutters into the Black Box’s depths.

While Cynthea banishes a cocky smile, her microexpression shows a hint of fear, adrenaline, and concern. “I can do this,” she mutters in a mantra as she carries her newly acquired sword in hand.

“I don’t get why you still seem hesitant to use your Astral Card,” Diana says, with a sage tone. “If marks the constellation attuned to you.”

“Are we having that conversation again?” Cynthea says. Unaware that she is being stalked by dire wolves. “I already told you, it feels weird turning into a swarm of smaller hive-minded clones.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Diana says.

“That’s what you said last time!” Cynthea says petulantly. Diana simply giggles.

“It takes some to get used to that,” Hecate says. “At least you won’t have to worry about the card for at least an hour.”

“Are you even sure the Stardeck would help me find…” Cynthea says. A sudden lump in her throat prevents her from finishing her sentence.

“We’re positive!” Diana says. “We wouldn't have trained you in using it if it wasn’t.”

“Don’t worry,” Hecate says. “We’ll find Phoebe with the powers of divination!”

“I hope you’re right,” Cynthea says. She takes out her deck. “Saggitarius, Crux, Lyra, Saggita…” She grimaces upon looking over the repertoire of cards she has access to. “Reticulum, Aquilla, Cygnus, Lepus…” Her thoughts turn to memory as she gazes at the cards. Memories of training with them in the outskirts of Gardenia. She had practiced drawing and using the eighty-eight cards for two years now. Ever since she had contracted with a familiar to find her older sister.

“Hercules, Lacerta, Norma—“Cynthea gazes at the final card. Musca, her Astral card, is native to Phaenon’s deck. The card grows transparent and barely tangible, signifying it cannot be currently accessed, to Cynthea’s relief. Her mind recalls the night a monster had attached her swarm. The day they encountered an amorphous black ooze.

Cynthea’s mind snaps back to reality. “Something wrong?” Hecate says.

“No,” Cynthea lied. “Why do you ask?”

“You were just standing there and staring at the wall,” Diana says.

“I was just lost in my thoughts,” Cynthea says.

“Uh-huh,” Diana says. “Sure.”

“List—“

The bickering was intercepted by the emergence of a dire wolf. Cynthea was started by the beast. She turns around and sees two more behind her. “Can this wait?” she asks the wolves as she tugs the top of her metallic mail. “We’re in the middle of an important conversation here!”

The beasts draw closer to Cynthea. The young girl sighs. “Guess not,” She takes out her sword and tries to attack the dire wolves. Her heavy swings with the sword are dodged by the wolves as she stumbles around trying to slash at them.

The slab of metal that was her weapon misses the wolves as they circle her. One lunches at her but she uses the sword as a shield and blacks the wolf’s fangs with it. The wolf struggles to dislodge their fangs from the sharp metal, and Cynthea tries to use the sword to repel it.

Another wolf charges at Cynthea, separating her from her sword. The wolf then lets go of it. Its gums bleeding from having a blade over them.

“Draw!” she says. “Please give me something good!” she thinks. Cynthea draws a card from the holster on her hip. The first card was Reticulum.

“Okay, I can only have three effects active at a time,” Cynthea thinks. She draws another card, this time the birdlike sigil tells her it is Aquilla.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cynthea says as she dodges a wolf’s lunge. She draws her third card. Lepus.

“Oh come on!” she exclaims the three metal cards in her hands glow. She is now able to see the wolves’ weaknesses, but her mind is overtaken by the instincts of a rabbit. She makes a mighty leap in the air, aided by the power of the Lepis card. Her arms morph into a bird’s talons by the power of the Aquilla card, and she sprouts a second pair of wings from its effect, over her cicada-like ones. Her cognitive functions are overtaken by those of a rabbit, and its fight or flight response. The vision of Retictulum enables her to see a hidden pathway in the dungeon and she swipes at it with her talons.

Emily reacts to the attack as if she was stung, and causes the wall to open and let Cynthea pass. Cynthea hops into the clearing but finds a dead end. A wolf follows and corners her.

Cynthea turns to the wolf, itself being followed by more of them. Her mind panics, unable to make coherent thoughts as the rabbit instincts overwhelm her sentience. She perceives the weaknesses of the dire wolves and leaps, the wings allowing her to control her descent as she extends her talons out and embeds them onto the wolf, shocking it with lighting straight to the ribs. The wolf winces in pain from the attack on its ribs and is unable to move. Cynthea uses the beast as a springboard for her next jump, aimed at another wolf. Her morphed arm pierces the next wolf’s flesh and causes it to bleed. As she leaps, the two wounded wolves retreat in agony.

Cynthea attacks three more wolves in that manner before the enchantments fade. Her arms, wings, and mind return to normal as she suffers a headache.

“Ugh,” Cynthea says. “Why did that card have to make me think like a rabbit?”

“Eh,” Diana clicks her tongue thrice while making a cheeky smile. “Don’t know, doc. You in the mood for carrots?”

“Shut up!” Cynthea says. She finds that she can use more cards now and draws. Her card is Sagittarius. She breathes a sigh of relief as a bow materializes in her eyes. She launched bolts of lightning at the wolves, causing them to disperse, save for one that was more determined than the others. That wolf lunges towards her and bites her bow arm.

Cynthea winces in pain as she tries to free her arm from the wolf’s fangs. She is knocked to the ground by the beast. Her arm is now injured. Adrenaline flows through her as the wolf carries her around like a ragdoll. Her wings are unable to lift her and the wolf is attached to her. Trapped, she sees her sword beside her. She has an idea.

“Come on,” she thinks. She controls her breathing. “I need a card, any card!” she takes her free hand to her holster. “Draw!”

She takes the card and immediately puts it in the face of the wolf. The flash stuns it long enough to loosen her grip on her and release her arm. She crawls to the sword and puts what little strength she has in one swing aimed at the wolf.

The slash creates a cut in the underbelly of the beast. The wolf flees in pain.

Cynthea breathes heavily as she drops the sword. “Why was that even worse the the boss? They were just…” Her mind grows foggy, and she struggles to fish her through. She turns to the card that blinded the wolf, the one that had allowed her victory. A circle with two vertical lines jutting from its top is engraved on the card. The card of Lepus.

“Oh no,” was her last coherent thought before she takes on the mind a playful bonny, unable to speak, she spent the next several minutes playfully running and binkying around the empty room. While Diana takes the opportunity to mess with Cynthea.

✦✦✦

Carla witnesses the fight, unsurprised by its outcome. She takes a look at the young cicada girl pretending to be a rabbit and sighs.

“The wolves were defeated, right?” Emily’s voice echoes to Carla.

“As can be plainly seen,” Carla says.

“Hey, um,” Emily says awkwardly. “Do you and Charlotte want to go to Noir with us? I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

“I’m not interested, but thanks,” Carla says. She observes Cynthea stop seemingly pretending to be a rabbit and picking up her sword. “I can’t risk being seen so soon,” she says, her mind fearful of the potential of an adventure from Hamlin recognizing her if she goes in Noir. “Besides, the guild cannot be relied on to keep your core safe while you’re away, you know that?”

“I do,” Emily says. “Elizabeth told me that I will need some sentinels to stay here to guard my core.”

“Did you ask Charlotte?” Carla says.

“No,” Emily says. She doesn't want to cause friction by asking her first and than risking Carla vetoing it.

The Alraune mother looks at the cicada girl heading toward the next room. “Looks like my debut is starting,” she says. “I’ll asks Charlotte if she wants to accompany you later.” Carla walks away to gather the three Tatzelworms.

✦✦✦

Cynthea, after several moments of mindless messing around, enters the nest room. She carries her injuries around. Fifty-five minutes remain before she is ejected by the dungeon.

“Had to be Phaeton today,” Cynthia says sarcastically. “It couldn't be Phaenon or Pyrois.”

“Sorry,” Hecate says. Her expression bears a tinge of regret at her inability to heal her charge’s wounded arm.

“You know, you could have shopped around for a party before diving headfirst into the Dungeon,” Diana says.

“That was my good arm too!” she says with frustration.

“We’ll need to work on that,” Diana says. “Ambidexterity is a good skill to have in cases like this.”

“Hey,” Hecate says curiously. “I want to ask why you have…you know?” she points to Cynthea’s abdomen, jutting up from above her hips. Similarly armored.

“I don’t know, “she says. “Why do you have that, Hecate?”

The familiar rubs the back of her head in embarrassment. “Sorry, I don’t really know myself.”

“I hear that people like Cynthea here have a larger digestive tract than other beings,” Diana says. “And the extra guts and intestines are stored there.”

“Eww,” Cynthea says in disgust. Diana giggles.

Cynthea limps to the center of the room. “Maybe they have a medical kit here,” she says.

“I must apologize, but there isn’t any here,” a voice says.

Cynthea turns to see an Alraune woman, with green skin and hair and petals in a matching hue. Behind her are three Tatzelwurms.

“You’re the next boss?” Cynthea says.

Carla nods. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says in a motherly tone.

Cynthea hesitates. Her dominant arm being injured would hamper her fighting ability for the rest of the excursion. “Um, maybe we could maybe, skip the fight?” She says awkwardly.

Carla looks at Cynthea’s arms. One holding the other by the elbow. This and the mention of medical kids are all the context she needed to realize what happened. “Maybe I could take a look at the arm?” the Alraune says.

A few minutes later, Carla examines Cynthea’s arm, removing the gantlet from it and wrapping it in some gauze. “So, what brings you to this dungeon?” Carla says.

“Heard it was brand new,” Cynthea says. “Like a few months old at best. I figured it would’ve been a cakewalk, silly me.” She giggles awkwardly.

Carla bandages the arm. “Why are you adventuring alone, to begin with, little one?”

“Looking for someone,” Cynthea says. “You wouldn't happen to see someone my age?” Cynthea makes several gestures to try to illustrate details. “About yea high, usually has buns, blond hair, similar complexion, also has a thingy like this,” she points her thumb to her abdomen.

“I’m afraid I have not seen anyone like that,” Carla says. “Maybe the nearby Arachne would know anything about that?”

“I wouldn't think so,” Cynthea says.

Carla knows she must have her monsters fight Cynthea. It is her duty as a sentinel to repel adventurers. Still, she has concerns about fighting someone as young as Cynthea. She takes a look at her now bandaged arm. “Would you like a sling for that?”

Cynthea declines. “Maybe after I finish with this place.”

“You wish to continue on then?” Carla says.

“Of course,” Cynthea says as she reattached the gauntlet over the gauze. “I also need to get some stuff here anyway, can’t really find my sister if I’m stuck a novice easily trampled by anyone with a flyswatter.”

By now forty minute remains on the timer. Even if she prevails here, the odds of her making it to the final room are slim. “Are you absolutely certain?” Carla says.

“Look,” Cynthea says. “Don’t want to fight you, but I need to be stronger,” she says. “If we have to—“

“I’m not fighting you, Cynthea,” Carla says as she turns her back and walks away.

“Yo-you’re not?” Cynthea says.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Hecate says.

Carla’s matronly tone hasn’t ceased. “Not directly at least,” she gestured to the feline serpents in their presence. “If you want to pass, you must defeat these three Tatzelwurms.”

Cynthea sighs. “Should’ve figured as much,” The gauze allows her some better movement of her injured arm, enough to fight at least.

✦✦✦

Cynthea prepares for the fight with Carla’s Tatzelwurms. While her arm is somewhat better, the injury means she is barely able to fight as her arm is more difficult to move.

“Are you sure you want to continue?” Carla says with a concerned look. “You might not be able to finish with a little over half an hour left.”

“I’m sure,” Cynthea says. “Thank you for your concern, but I must do this.”

“Alright,” Carla turns to her serpents. Emily looks at the battle, conflicted. Tim and Heathcliff also observe.

“Cher’s got potential but…” Heathcliff says.

Tim looks at the Cicada girl, “Don’t tell me you want to recruit her.”

“Mais non,” Heathcliff says. “Not yet at least, she needs time to grow, and besides, I don’t think the little mademoiselle can find who she’s looking for here anyway.”

Cynthea looks at the serpents and steels herself. “Draw!” Her injured arm lifts the card from the Stardeck holster. The card depicts a cross pointing down. The Southern Cross. “Crux,” she thinks. Her face smirks as she displays the cards to the beast.

The room lights up as a cross-shaped pillar of light strikes the ground. Lightning emerges from the electrified pillar, zapping random spots around it. Cynthea flies around trying to avoid the summoned bolts. The Tatzelwurm slithers to avoid the electric blasts. A bolt zaps one of the feline wurms, causing some damage to it.

Carla looks on in shock, not expecting the card to do that much damage. Elizabeth approaches the area, being careful to not get hit by the lightning.

Cynthea tries to avoid the lightning, but one of the bolts lands a hit on her, shocking her like a bug zapper and forcing her to crash onto the ground.

“Ow!” she lets out a cry of pain as she collides with the ground. She tries to fly again, but her wings are unable to move, paralyzed. “Darn it!”

The armored cicada magical girl is faced by one of the Tatzelwurms, its feline head glares at the young maiden. Cynthea drew her sword, but her bandaged arm could barely hold the weapon aloft. The serpent bares its fangs and lunges at her, but she dodges.

“An [Astromancer]?” Elizabeth says in a strange dialect.

“What are those?” Emily’s voice echoes to the fairy as she observes Cynthea’s struggle.

“A user of a form of magic known as the Stardeck, diviners, and sorcerers in their own right, but their powers rely literally on the luck of the draw,” Elizabeth says.

Cynthea dodges the serpent and laughs at its miss, but in her mockery, she fails to notice an arc of lightning striking her from the pillar. Her armor is scorched by the voltage coursing through her body. “Should’ve tried for a different card,” she thinks as she struggles to keep herself upright.

The Tatzelwurm coils around Cynthea, who cannot resist its constrictive abilities as it wraps itself around her. The beast purrs as it does so. The other two eagerly look on.

Cynthia struggles to move while bound like this, she wriggles her free arm to her hit and slowly lifts another card from the deck. A lyre manifests in her injured arm, materializing from the drawn Lyra card.

Cynthea’s legs go numb as the serpent squeezes her, as is her injured arm. It only has enough feeling to barely grip the lyre. She moves her other arm to the lyre, trying to strum it, but the serpent tightens its grip.

Cynthia cries for help, but her voice can barely escape the scaly coil, and even if she is louder, Diana and Hecate are in no position to fight the beasts themselves. The cat snake turns to face its captive. A smarmy, smug look on its feline face as it purrs menacingly. She tries to move for five minutes. After which, the Crux pillar disappears in an explosion of electric wrath, firing a gigantic bolt away from the Tatzelwurms.

The Lyre is about to expire. The thunder causes the Tatzelwurm to get distracted and loosen its hold on Cynthea. She takes the opponent and strums the instrument, accompanied by a mighty scream.

The beast is shocked from within its coil as Cynthrea’s scream and the few notes she made causes lightning to emerge from her body. She is zapped by the blowback, but the stunned beast is even more so and falls to the ground unconscious. The other two wurms loom over her.

“Okay,” Cynthea says as she struggles to walk. The self-inflicted shocks paralyzed much of her body and her legs are only barely awake after being squeezed so tightly so far. Her lyre fades. There is only ten minutes left on the clock. “I need Sagittarius or Saggitae, please give me those!”

She draws a card, Reticulum. “Come on, it’s only a one-six chance!” She draws a second card, Musca. “Maybe I can work with that?” she thinks, a sense of dread washes over her face. She draws her third and final card. Her holster glows radiantly as she feels something surge within her. “Yes, yes,” she thinks as she anticipates her draw. Her mind begins to grow foggy as thoughts of burrowing into the ground and chewing the green parts of carrots consume her. “No, no!” panic consumes her mind as light does her body.

Cynthea has become a swarm again, but this time the swarm is less coordinated easily distracted, and easily panicked.

“Well, that’s a wash,” Diana says, knowing that the swarm would be unable to finish the encounter.

The Tatzelwurms purr meaninglessly as they approached the scattering swarm. Carla won. “Stand down,” she says in a gentle yet stern voice. The Tatzelwurms obey despite their desire to consume the swarm of small bunny-minded clones of the Cicada clones.

By the time the enchantment wears off a gust of wind blows the swarm away. Cynthea, Hecate, and Diana find themselves outside the Black box, with the young Cicada girl unconscious, her mind overloaded by the slightly different but myriad memories of being blown away at breakneck speeds.

✦✦✦

At dusk, a Dejected Cynthea heads to the guild hall to report her failure to take the dungeon. At one of the tables, they sold off their gemstones and used the money to order a combo meal from the built-in burger place. The sword she had earned lies on the table.

“Should I absorb it?” Cynthea ponders.

“Of course,” Diana says, “As a Magical Girl you need to consume the mana somehow!” the familiar says.

“Yet,” Hecate says, “Today has proven that she will need a backup plan in case her luck fails her.”

“Stupid Phaeton!” she says. “Why did I get the crappy deck today?”

“Look!” Diana says as she lands on Cynthea’s nose, an uncharacteristic scowl and a stern expression on your face. “It isn’t just the cards, but sometimes how you use them!” she says. Her small insectoid legs touched the larger girl’s nostrils. “Even if you’ve been dealt a bad hand, you still got to make use of it!”

Cynthea sighs. “I know.” She looks at the sword. “I don’t think that is my strong suit anyway. She takes out her gauntlet and lays her bare hand over the weapon. A black ooze emerges from her palm and attaches itself to the sword, soon coating it in its ebon embrace. The ooze digests the weapon, reducing it to more of itself before retracting back into her palm.

Her stomach growls, despite having finished her meal. Cynthea sighs. “I hope tomorrow will be better for us,” she says.

The next day, Cynthea arrives at her motel room. She opens the door and heads to the bedroom. There she finds two beds. Lying on one of them is a young girl her age, her body covered in dark goo similar to what had been emerged from Cynthea’s hand. Cynthea takes a look at the other girl. Her face frozen in a pained expression.

“Phoebe…” Cynthea says. Her mind recalls the events of the fateful day, she she had soon found her sister swallow up by black ooze and vanished, only for her to seemingly returned the next day, bereft of all memory except of Cynthea, and plagued by nightmares of a similar monster wreaking havoc.

“Cindi?” Phoebe’s body begins to rouse and the back mass recedes into her body. Her magenta eyes open as she sites up, the exceeding black moss revealing brown armor similar to Cynthea’s. “How was your day?”

“Terrible,” Cynthea says. “And you?”

“The monster, its still around,” Phoebe says.

“Cheer up,” Cynthea says. “They’re only nightmares.”

“Are they?” Phoebe says.

Cynthea and the two familiars are unwilling to tell her the truth.

“I’m sure,” Cynthea says. “Say you should get ready, here heading our at noon.”

“Okay,” Phoebe says with a tired soft voice. The younger cicada girl stands up and gets off her bed, leaving her room for the bathroom.

“Are you certain,” Cynthea says to the familiars, “that Phoebe became a—“

“Unfortunately,” Hecate says “We’re sure. And that the one with us is but a fragment of your sister.”

Cynthea had asked this question dozens of times, and always leading to the same result. Her memory flashes back to the day Phoebe’s fragment was found. The girl had lost her memories, her personality had grown more timid, and black goo oozed out from her like blood. It was also the day she had met the two familiar and the days she had contracted with them.

✦✦✦

“Help me find the rest of my sister, help me save Phoebe!”

Cynthea flashes back to the day she encountered the two families. On an overcast day. Cynthea was at the place where Phoebe was abducted, and where her fragment had arrived.

“What’s wrong with my sister?” Cynthea asks. “What happened to her?”

“She had become a Strega,” the multi-legged one, Diana, said. “It’s honestly surprising that a fragment had strayed that far from her?”

“A fragment, what?” Cynthea says.

The bipedal one, Hecate, buzzed closer to Cynthea. “She had contracted and became a Magical Girl. Then she had fallen into despair and became a Strega. A monster of insanity and despite that wreaks havoc wherever they go.”

Cynthea’s mind flashes to a later night.

“That girl is a monster!”

The line came from the swarm’s leader who had banished Phoebe after the incident and had banished Cynthea for coming to her defense.

“You can’t be serious!” Cynthea says

“If what you said is true,” the leader says, “then Phoebe is a threat to us all and must be eliminated. As all witches are!”

The other members of the cicada swarm buzz with the desire to destroy Phoebe and her fragment.

“She is a witch!” One of them says.

“She’s my sister!” Cynthea responds.

Her memory turned to a heated argument with her parents. Which began with an echo of the two lines.

“Get out!” the father yelled—banishing and disowning his daughters.

Cynthea’s mind returns to the present. Black tears stream downs her face.

Hecate realizes what is happening and gets her attention. “One way or another we’ll find the rest of Phoebe! Don’t worry you have our words on that.”

“I know,” Cynthea sniffles. The inky black of her tears fades into a clear fluid. “I am not gonna turn into one of them.” She says, to assure herself.

Phoebe returns, rubbing her eyes. “Are we gonna eat first?”

Cynthea turns to the fragment of her sister. “Yeah, c’mon, I’ll go cook,”

After breakfast. Cynthea gathers and shuffles all of her decks together. “Let's see what the fortune is today!” she thinks. Phoebe looks on in awe as Cynthea shuffles her cards.

“Draw!” Cynthea draws the top card of her deck. It is The Telescopium card of the Maimario deck, in the Benefic position.

“Hmm,” Hecate says. “A interesting fortune,” she says.

“What does it mean?” Phoebe asks Cynthea.

“Hang on,” Cynthea racks her brain for the answer. “It tells us that though our goals would be distant, we will reach them,”

“Wow,” Phoebe says. “So cool!”

Cynthea puts her Stardeck away. “Time to go, the bus will arrive soon.”

Phoebe flashes a cheerful smile as she prepares her belonging. A rare reminder of the girl she used to be. The two sisters leave the motel and head to the bus stop.

On the way to a bus stop, the two sisters depart from Rosenkreuz. They pass the path that held the older sister to the Black Box. Cynthea looks towards the direction of the parth. A look of determination in her eyes. “I want to go back,” Cynthea thinks. “I can do better, next time, I know I will!”

They two sisters and familiars finish they trek. Diana and Hecate resting on Cynthea’s shoulders. A bus soon arrives, red in hue.

“Gardinia outskirts, right?” the driver asks.

Cynthea nods as she hands them her tickets. The two sisters enter the vehicle and it departs for Gardenia.

✦✦✦

Meanwhile, Carla wakes up Charlotte in her room. Manually deactivating her sleeping device. The alraune child rouses as Carla greets her. Her front petals fall into the opening of the device in its natural position.

“Morning, Mom,” Charlotte rubbed her eyes before stepping outside the cylindrical pot-like machine. The rest of her indigo petals fall into their normal pace as she leaves.

“Morning sweetie,” Carla says. The mother and daughter head to the kitchen to prepare their breakfast.

The two discuss Carla’s first battle as a sentinel and how she had successfully defended Emily from its visitor, as well as the visitor herself. Charlotte eats her eggs as she learns about the insectoid Magical Girl from yesterday.

“You know Emily is planning to go to Noir soon, dearie?” Carla says as she pours a cup of coffee onto her cup.

“Yeah,” Charlotte says. “You want to go?”

“Of course not,” Carla says. “You know I cannot be seen in public for now.”

“Oh, right,” Charlotte recalls the immolation at Hamlim. “Thanks for the nightmares, Mom,” she says sarcastically.

Carla sighs. While Charlotte had put up a brave face, Carla could still tell that her trick on Hamlin had traumatized her. “It had to be done,” she thinks.

“Anyway,” Carla tries to bring the discussion back to Noir. “Would you want to visit Noir with Emily?”

Charlotte stops eating and drops her utensil. Realization of the question dawns on her. “You mean that city to the north of New Virginia?”

“Of course, dear,” Carla said. “I may not be going, but I wouldn't you to miss out on such an opportunity.”

Charlotte thinks about it. For some reason, she had been wondering what life was like in Noir for several years, especially after Samuel’s demise. Especially since she learned that there are thriving demi-human communities in the urban centers.

Still, other concerns weigh in on her mind. “But what about the monsters?” she says. “Are you sure you can handle them alone?

“Sweetie, please,” Carla says playfully. “I’ve been taming them since before you were born. You know that.”

“What about the other children?” Charlotte says.

“Lydia would still be around to keep an eye on them,” Carla says. “I do understand her concerns,” Carla thinks, “but at the same time I don’t think we’d be making headway with them anytime soon.”

“But—“ Charlotte is interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.

“Coming!” Clara says. She turns back to her daughter. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, think of it, dearie,” she says as she answers the door.

Charlotte thinks about the city Noir. “Maybe I can take a small peek around it,” she thinks.

After returning, the two Alraunes finish their meal and prepare for the day’s work in the Black Box.

✦✦✦

Over at Noir’s underground, Whisper scurries to one of the guildhalls of the Rouge’s guild. Outside it, sitting at a bench, he finds Esteban, clad in his cerulean suit.

The Azure Rouge finds the familiar approaches him. The phantasmal squirrel greets him.

“Still no dice,” Esteban says. “No one on the surface seemed interested.”

Whisper sighs. “I’d hope that things would’ve changed by now.”

“It is a hard sell,” Esteban says, grabbing a copy of the Spelunker newspaper. The front page mentions one of the upcoming parties in Gatsby Tower. “Eight little girls is more than most parents are willing to put up with.”

“And the dungeons?”

“None here are interested either,” Esteban says. He then realized something. “But…”

“But?”

“My friend had said her found a new dungeon to oversee, says she was in dire straights before he got her an avatara. She seems like someone who can make use of eight young magical girls.”

“And where is this dungeon?” the phantasmal squirrel says.

“New Virginia,” Esteban says.

Whisper grows crestfallen. “That is rather far from here,” he says.

Esteban turns his paper, the heat from the industrial equipment around the bench causes some sweat to drip from his dark skin. “This place is too hot,” he says. “Maybe we can try that diner of yours?” He folds the paper and places it under his arm.

“With pleasure,” the familiar says. “Thank you.”

Esteban smiles. The mana and the phantom squirrel head towards the diner.