The last time Ursula’s PET had received an emergency alert, things hadn’t turned out well. Maybe that was why she felt a deep apprehension about this one. Or maybe she instinctively knew that an emergency alert was probably not going to be a good thing. Especially given the situation in Locksmouth – she couldn’t imagine it was going to be good news. Regardless of why, she was certain that it was going to be bad news before she even answered. And, unsurprisingly, she was right. “So, like, this is bad, right?”

“Is it?”

“I mean, there’s an alien civil war going on in Locksmouth. That’s not gonna turn out well for anybody.”

“I have to agree with Ursula, darling.” Erin fidgeted nervously. “Especially considering we have no idea what side of the conflict our inklings are even on.”

“They’re the good guys, right? They’ve gotta be.”

“I dunno,” Ursula said, frowning slightly and crossing their arms. “If they are the good guys they’re sure bein’ awful quiet about it.” She glared at her reflection, which remained decidedly not Delphi.

“... Maybe they’re just tired. I don’t know, I just feel like it’s counterproductive to not trust them right now.”

“I’d kinda like to know for sure if the alien living in my brain is evil or not. She sure looks evil, with all the black and red.”

“Purple and blue,” Ursula’s reflection snapped back at her.

“Oh, now you feel like talking.”

“I severely doubt you would be willing to listen to reason, so I see no reason to even bother trying.”

“‘Don’t worry, Ursula! I’m not on the side of the actual literal evil intergalactic space tyrant!’ That’s literally all you hafta say and this conversation is over.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“I fucking knew it.”

“Ursula now isn’t the fucking time for this,” Vienna said wearily. She could feel herself slipping back into that old rut of desperately trying to make peace with her friends while they picked fights at an inopportune moment. She didn’t like it. “Can we please wait until we’re not in an underground death maze to start fights with our superpowers?”

“What superpowers?! Last I checked our ‘superstrength’ wasn’t enough to make any kinda difference against jaws, and you won’t tell me what actual advantage you give me or even let me use it.”

“Ursula-”

“Vienna, shut up! I don’t care if y’all are okay with playing host to an actual literal evil alien bodysnatcher but I sure as fuck ain’t.”

“We’re not evil!” That was Titania, manic almost to the point of screaming. Edifice had also replaced Vienna’s reflection, though she hadn’t said anything yet, merely crossing her arms and looking as pensive as she was capable of.

“Well then fucking say so!”

“It’s war you idiot child. There are no ‘good guys’ or ‘bad guys.’ There’s only people who do bad things, people who do worse things, and people who die because they were unwilling to do bad things.”

That was the last straw. “Out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me. Out.”

“I would die.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Ursula snapped. “I’m sick and fucking tired of being berated by you, and assuming Echelon’s broadcast was even slightly close to the truth I’m not gonna lose any sleep over you dying.”

“Echelon’s broadcast was transparent propaganda!” It was Delphi’s turn to shout. “But fine. In spite of the fact that you seem to have already decided not to trust me, I’ll explain to you exactly why you’d have to be a complete idiot to even consider siding with Echelon in this conflict.”

“I thought you didn’t remember any details?”

“I didn’t. But the broadcast did at least manage to fill in the last remaining blanks.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Just fucking get on with it.”

“Fine,” Delphi spat. “I will give Echelon credit for one thing. She did an admirable job of taking a series of statements that were, in the most technical sense, not untrue and using it to spin a bald-faced lie by carefully omitting crucial facts.”

“Like what?”

“There are three key falsehoods. First; Echelon would have you believe that she and her allies are plucky underdogs fighting against an oppressive totalitarian regime. This is false. Though Osoth is very much a tyrant and a monster, what Echelon didn’t tell you is that until they decided to rebel, she and Arus were Osoth’s right and left hands. Her closest, most trusted generals.”

“Okay, fine, whatever. How do I know you’re not lying?”

“How do you know Echelon isn’t lying?”

Ursula wanted to respond with something witty or clever. She couldn’t. “Fine, that’s one lie. You said there were three.”

“The second; Echelon would have you believe that her gathering of plucky underdogs stand any kind of chance of beating the oppressive totalitarian regime if they just try hard enough. This is false. Her war is futile. She knows this, I know this. Osoth is a god. Defeating her is impossible.”

“How do you know that? Maybe if you weren’t a coward-”

“I am no coward,” Delphi shouted, before taking a moment to regain her composure. “Osoth is not a normal inkling, though Echelon would conveniently leave out this fact. Osoth creates inklings – and, if she so chooses, she could unmake any one of us. The only reason Echelon’s rebellion didn’t end immediately was because Osoth finds the whole thing amusing.”

“This Osoth sounds like a stellar person. I can totally see why you’d want to follow her.”

“Believe me,” Delphi hissed. “Were it not almost certainly a futile endeavour, I would turn on her in a heartbeat. In the billions of millennia her reign lasted before the civil war began, the number of hosts who died as a result of her rule was quite literally so impossibly vast that your numbers are incapable of expressing it in a fashion you could comprehend.”

“So she’s gotta go down, right?”

“I told you, it’s impossible.”

“Okay but say you’re right. What’s the harm in trying? It’s better than doing nothing.”

“Because after Echelon began her civil war, the number of hosts dead matched the number Osoth’s reign killed on its own over literal countless eons in less than five hundred years.”

Delphi’s words felt like a punch to the gut. Ursula physically reeled, if only slightly. “That’s... That’s one hell of an escalation.”

“As I’ve said, it’s a war.” Delphi crossed her arms solemnly. “The third falsehood. Echelon would have you believe her hands are clean, that she’s a brave hero fighting for the people. This is... This is false. Echelon is a cold, calculating warmonger. She doesn’t care about the cost of her rebellion, about the sheer overwhelming number of worlds that are gone forever with nothing to show for it.”

Ursula took a few deep breaths. “I... Okay. That’s- that’s a compelling argument. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’ve only got your word to go on here, okay? You’re not wrong that Echelon’s not more trustworthy, but... You’ve not exactly endeared yourself to me.”

“I saw no reason to.”

“Clearly that was a mistake,” Edifice interjected. “A mistake... that we all made. And now, when the situation is at its most dire, it’s come back to bite us.”

“Why would the situation be dire?” Erin asked.

“Because Echelon and Osoth are here. On earth,” Delphi replied. “Without some sort of intervention, humanity’s collective prana will likely run out in a matter of months.”

“Okay, yeah, uh... That sounds bad?”

“That would be the point where everyone is dead, yes.”

Ursula took a few steps backwards, almost completely overwhelmed. “This... this is a lot to take in.”

“Well, you’ve not got a lot of time so take it in quickly.”

“I’m still not sure I believe you.”

“I am unsurprised.”

“If you don’t believe us,” Edifice interjected, “then what about Fantoma?”

“Who?”

“Aubrey.” Ursula frowned, but said nothing. “I understand that we’re not the most trustworthy source of information. We’ve only really known each other for a day or so, and... our interactions haven’t been the most positive so far. But Fantoma and Viola have known each other for ten years. If you don’t believe her when she says it’s the only choice then I don’t know if you’ll believe anyone.”

The girls remained silent for a moment as each of them contemplated the next course of action. Eventually, Vienna stepped forward. “Fine,” she said tersely. A part of her sorely wanted to mend bridges with her Inkling, but... Ursula was right. She wanted to know for certain as objectively as possible if Edifice was allied with an evil space tyrant or not before believing anything she had to say. As it was, there was no reason not to assume they were lying, and Vienna could think of only one thing that might change her mind. “If Viola trusts you, I’ll trust you.”

“I agree with Vienna,” Erin said after a moment A part of her was screaming that Viola was absolutely the worst possible person to ask this question. Of course she was going to trust her imaginary friend. She had almost said as much, but then Titania had shot her a pained look. She wasn’t sure why that was enough to get her to change her mind, but it was. “I... Trust Viola’s judgment.”

“Fine, fine, if Viola says you’re cool, you’re cool. But if Viola says you’re not cool...” Ursula trailed off, leaving the remainder to implication. “Anyway,” she continued, somewhat glad to change the subject. “Suppose we decide to believe you’re the good guys and Echelon is the bad guy, despite all of the copious evidence to the contrary. How exactly do you propose we save the world?”

“We have to get to Locksmouth as soon as possible,” Edifice said, after a moment’s consideration. “And from there, we end the war.”

“... How, exactly, do we do that?” Vienna asked. She had a sinking suspicion as to what the answer was going to be, but she still felt the need to ask.

“By assassinating Echelon.”

~~~~~~

“No! Absolutely not!”

Fantoma took a sharp breath through clenched teeth, or at least mimed the action. “Viola...”

“I’m not killing someone.”

“I know and I don’t blame you. Believe me, if I could think of a way to end this war without anyone dying I would take it in a heartbeat but I can’t and I’m sorry for that. But this war has to end.”

“Well it can end without me!”

“Viola if we don’t do something everyone on earth will die.”

“Everyone’s gonna die anyway,” Viola retorted. “Ami’s bombs, remember? Or are you too distracted by murdering some random person unlucky enough to be the host for someone you don’t like?!”

“Fine! We deal with Ami and Echelon, then.”

“Listen to yourself talk! You sound like a psychopath!” Viola threw up her hands, mostly just to get out some of that excess frustration. “If you want to kill Echelon so badly you can... You can find someone else to do it with!”

Fantoma winced, like she’d taken a punch to the gut. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Viola snapped. “Once we get out of here, you need to find a different host. Maybe Lars would be down with murdering some random stranger.”

Fantoma didn’t respond for a moment. “V-Viola, listen, I-”

“No! We’re not talking about this any more! I’m not killing Echelon and I’m not killing her host! If you’re so deadset on it then you can leave!”

“Viola, I-” Fantoma paused, taking a sharp intake of breath. “I don’t-” She abruptly collapsed forward against the window, sobbing heavily. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

The haze of anger that had enveloped Viola’s thoughts evaporated in an instant. “Oh no! No, no, no, it’s fine. It’s fine. I’m sorry. We can talk this out.”

“No we can’t,” Fantoma choked out. “It’s... So many people are dead, Viola. Inkling and host alike. And the war can keep going on and on, forever. Will keep going on forever. I don’t want to leave you, but I have to stop this.”

“I...” Viola frowned, the frustration once again bubbling to the surface. “You know what, I don’t think I like Fantoma very much.”

“I think I don’t much care for her myself,” Aubrey said quietly. “Why... Why did I have to drag you into this? Why couldn’t I think of... anything else?!”

“I don’t know.” It was all Viola could think to say.

“Listen, Viola. There’s one other thing you need... You deserve to know. Once we-” she cut herself off, taking a sharp breath. “Once we deal with Echelon, however that ends up happening, Osoth isn’t going to be happy about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because she enjoys the war,” Aubrey spat. “She finds it fun.”

“That’s... Awful.”

Aubrey nodded. “She’s a monster. But I don’t- I don’t know any other way. I’m sorry. I don’t know what she’ll do to me. So I need you to promise me something.”

“F-Aubrey, I-”

“When we do what needs to be done, I’m going to leave you. I need you to promise me you’ll run away as far and as fast as you can. Please don’t suffer for my mistakes.”

“No!” The word came out instinctively, without any real thought from Viola. “I’m not leaving you!”

“You were just saying that-”

“I don’t want to leave you if I can help it! You’re like... Like a part of me.”

“That’s because we’ve been with each other so long,” Aubrey said with an understanding nod. “When a host and an inkling are bonded for extended periods of time, they start to become more and more alike. That’s why Echelon’s host is so dangerous.”

“Because she’s more likely to agree with Echelon?”

“Exactly.”

“Well... Maybe the opposite is true, too?”

“Hm?”

“Maybe... Maybe Echelon’s host has rubbed off on her enough that we can just... talk to her?”

“I don’t think it’s going to be that simple,” Aubrey replied sadly. “But... There’s no harm in trying, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Viola said with a smile. “Come on, let’s go find the others.”

“Not gonna happen, kid.”

Makoto moved fast, faster than Viola could ever hope to react to – she hadn’t even been aware Makoto was anywhere nearby until the woman had a death-grip on her arm. “Since when were you allowed to leave?” she growled dangerously.

“S-since Ami said so!”

“God fucking dammit.” Makoto tightened her grip.

“You’re hurting me!”

“You’ll live.”

“Let go!”

“No.”

Something about the way Makoto said that caused all of the adrenaline in Viola’s system to fade away. Dimly, she recalled how effortlessly the woman had taken out Ursula, and her body cowered away instinctively. She wasn’t exactly a tall person – only slightly taller than Viola. But... somehow, in that instant, she seemed to tower over the terrified rabbit.

“Viola,” Aubrey said. Makoto didn’t react even slightly. Of course she didn’t – the only people who could hear Aubrey while she was in the mirror were other people with inklings. “I have a plan, but... You’re going to have to trust me.”

This was probably a bad time for Aubrey to ask Viola to trust her. She’d known Aubrey for more than half of her entire life now, but she’d only really known Fantoma for a few minutes. And Fantoma... didn’t really seem to be a good person, and it was hard to tell where the one ended and the other began. In the end, though, she wanted to trust that Aubrey knew what she was doing. Besides, she didn’t exactly relish being captured again.

“You need to stay put. Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

Makoto raised an eyebrow. “Wait, really?” She loosened her grip, ever so slightly. Not a part of the plan, but every little bit helped.

Blue and green liquid quickly flowed from nowhere, enveloping Viola’s body as Aubrey took control. She brought her free arm down on Makoto’s wrist with all the strength she could muster. Which wasn’t really much – it was far beyond Viola’s baseline, but unfortunately Viola’s baseline wasn’t very high. It would have absolutely been no match for Makoto had she not been caught off-guard. She didn’t manage to hurt the soldier, but that also wasn’t a part of the plan.

The circumstances added up to Makoto’s grip loosening further, just for a moment, just long enough for Aubrey to wrench free. She quickly leapt backwards, putting a good few feet of distance between them before shifting into a fighting stance. Working under Osoth had given her a lot of experience as a fighter. Unfortunately, ten years bonded to Viola had done a number on those skills. Hopefully the seasoned soldier didn’t notice she was just mimicking something Viola had seen in a movie once. And, again, even inked, Viola just didn’t have the strength to match Makoto.

No, if they were going to get out of this, she was going to have to be clever.

“That was a bad move, you little brat,” Makoto growled. “We only need you alive. Not intact.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Aubrey replied. That, at least, wasn’t entirely false. If the soldiers were going to kill or even really seriously injure Viola, they would have done so by now. She was certain Makoto was a force to be reckoned with – the way she’d systematically dismantled Ursula earlier was evidence enough for that. But no, she was fairly sure Makoto was bluffing.

And even if she wasn’t, Fantoma had some tricks up her sleeve.

“You should be.” The soldier glowered dangerously. “Ex-Yakuza enforcer, remember? I’ve got extensive experience causing someone a lot of pain without actually killing them.”

“I’d imagine you don’t have much experience doing that with only one arm, though.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Slowly, Makoto’s eyes followed Aubrey’s line of sight. The inkling was staring at the arm she’d held Viola with. Or, rather, where it used to be and decidedly wasn’t anymore.

“We’ve all got powers. Mine is to delete things. Your arm no longer exists.” Aubrey shifted her stance slightly, in what she desperately hoped looked like she was about to attack and not just trying to make it look like she knew what she was doing. It didn’t matter; Makoto was busy staring at where her arm used to be in stunned silence.

And then, just like that, the tension vanished. Makoto relaxed, shifting out of her combat ready stance, and it was like a weight had been lifted from Aubrey’s chest. “Well, I’ll be damned. I didn’t even notice. Hell, I can even still feel it. Some kinda phantom pain bullshit or something.”

“Leave,” Aubrey said, in what was supposed to be an intimidating tone, but it was very difficult to sound intimidating using Viola’s voice. “Or next time I delete the rest of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. You’ll hear no complaints from me, kid.” Makoto raised her one remaining arm in a gesture of surrender. “I’m gonna have to re-evaluate my opinion of you. That was almost a respectable move.”

“Leave. Now.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Makoto said, turning to do just that. “Ah, one thing, though. Just a word of advice? When I say we’ve got you’re best interests in mind, that’s not a lie. If you ever want to see your families again, you should seriously reconsider how you’re handling Ami’s game. That goes for all of you.”

With that, Makoto left. Just... walked away. Aubrey waited until she was out of sight before de-inking, leaving Viola to collapse backwards against the nearest building. “Oh my god.”

“Are you alright?”

“No but I’ll manage. You...”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t blame you, you didn’t kill her and you got rid of her. I guess I’m just processing that I can apparently just make things not exist.”

“Ah, about that.”

“I mean, I guess it’ll be useful in this whole thing. Except could you even delete the weird monster things Ami makes? They’re like holograms but real, right? Do they count as real enough for your powers to work on or-”

“That’s not my power.”

Viola stopped talking for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“I was lying. My power is invisibility. I can turn myself and objects I touch invisible.”

“Oh. So... you were bluffing?”

“Yes.”

“Turned her arm invisible and then pretended you’d erased it from existence?”

“Yes.”

“And she could have just noticed her arm was still there at any time?”

“Yes.”

“Or called your bluff and tried to fight you anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. I see.” Viola pulled out her PET and activated the peoplefinder app once again. “Hey, Aubrey? Or Fantoma or whatever you want me to call you? Would you mind taking over again for a bit?”

“Oh. Um, yes, I suppose so.”

“Good.” With that, Viola promptly passed out.

~~~~~~

In the end, it didn’t take very long for Aubrey to meet up with the others. They weren’t actually all that far apart, it seemed – for all she knew, considering how inconsistent space seemed to be in this place, they hadn’t actually left the entrance at any point.

They didn’t seem particularly happy to see her.

“Oh,” Vienna said. “Where’s Viola.”

“Asleep. It’s been... A long day.”

“Wake her up. I want to talk with her.”

“Vienna, darling, I think it’s best to let her get some rest,” Erin interjected in an uncharacteristically diplomatic manner.

“I want to talk to my god damn sister.” 

“Okay,” Aubrey responded after a moment. “I’m sure she wants to talk to you too.”

None of Viola’s pack seemed particularly happy. Erin was twitchy and anxious, eyes darting about and arms crossed tightly under her breasts in a posture very reminiscent of her earlier panic attack. Ursula sullenly lurked a good distance from the others, arms crossed and expression foul. And Vienna was just angry, giving Aubrey the mother of all death glares.

“I, ah, take it you’re... aware.”

“Viola. Now. Please.”

“Okay.” Aubrey could tell that she wasn’t particularly welcome. And she didn’t really want to push her luck much further. “You’re going to have to catch her. She’s still asleep.”

“Okay,” Vienna replied with a terse nod.

Aubrey didn’t bother even trying to say anything else. There wasn’t any point in delaying further. She receded, and Viola fell forward into her twin’s waiting arms. “Wha..?” she muttered, dazed and confused.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” This exchange was repeated several times before Viola finally managed to get her bearings. “Can I go sit down? We can talk, I’m just... very tired.”

“No. I’m hugging you.”

“Oh okay.” Viola hung limply in her sister’s arms – not that she didn’t appreciate the affection. She was just too fucking exhausted to reciprocate. Fuck, she was practically on the verge of falling back asleep right then and there.

“I think that’s probably enough hugging for now, darling,” Erin interjected wearily. “Unfortunately, we have other priorities.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vienna muttered, slowly relinquishing her hold on Viola. Or mostly relinquishing her hold. She kept a little bit of a grip, to help prevent Viola from falling on her face while she wandered her way over to sit down against a building. “So what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Viola replied after a moment of thought.

“Darling, with all due respect, you were there.”

“I know I was there, but... I don’t know. It was weird. It’s like...” Once again, she paused in an attempt to collect her thoughts, and once again she failed miserably. “It’s like every time I think I’ve gotten a hold of what’s going on here something happens and I’ve got no idea anymore.”

“Boy fuckin’ howdy do I hear you on that front,” Ursula said. At some point she’d wandered in from her place on the outside of the group and after interjecting she unceremoniously sat down next to Viola. “We had to fight a fucking Cap’n Comet villain.”

“Oh. I was wondering what was up with that.”

“You saw him?”

“I saw Ami but she looked like I guess what you had to fight still? And then she made them let me go.”

“Yeesh. I think I see what you mean.”

“We need to get out of here,” Vienna said, taking a seat on the other side of Viola.

“No fuckin’ kidding.”

“That’s hardly the most pressing reason for us to leave,” Erin said quietly.

“Right... That.”

The mood, which had very briefly seemed to lift, if only a little bit, came crashing right back down. “I... have a plan.” Viola muttered. “I dunno if it’s a good plan, but...”

Ursula shrugged. “Hey, look, it’s gotta be better than the other option on the table, right?”

“We need to get our pins set up before we can knock them down,” Erin said. “Ah, Viola, would you mind scooting forward a bit? Just for a moment.”

“Huh? Yeah okay, sure. Why?”

Erin didn’t respond, or at least not with words. She quickly took up Viola’s former place against the wall, pulling the smaller bun into her lap and nestling her head in between her breasts. “There. Much more comfortable than a cold wall.”

“Heh. Lookin’ at us like this, you’d almost think we were a normal, functional pack.”

“There’s nothing stopping us from just being a normal, functional pack, you know,” Vienna said.

“I guess you’re right. Something about being in a life or death situation like this really puts things into perspective.” Ursula flopped over, resting her head on Erin’s shoulder. “We can talk about important stuff later. Right now I just... kinda wanna just be with you all. It almost feels normal.”

“Normal is good,” Erin said with a nod, gently draping her arms over Viola’s shoulders and then pulling her into a hug from behind. The action drew a strained, croaking squeak from the smaller bun, and Erin immediately pulled her arms back. “Oh! Are you alright, Viola?”

Viola stumbled forward, out of the warm comforting embrace of Erin’s giant fucking boobs, blushing furiously. “It’s fine! I’m fine!”

“You don’t sound fine, darling. And you’re certainly not acting fine.”

“I’m fine,” Viola repeated, trying very hard not to think of Erin’s boobs. Not that she particularly minded having her head between Erin’s boobs, of course. It’s just that now was probably not a good time to let her libido get out of control. As though “out of control” wasn’t its default state. “Just... sorry. Give me a second to calm down.”

“Calm down?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, maybe that’d be a good thing?” Everyone immediately turned to look at Vienna, mostly because she was the last person anyone thought would suggest that specific course of action. “O-obviously I’m no expert on the subject, but if we wanna pretend to be a normal pack in a normal situation for a bit, what’s a more normal pack activity than OC?”

“I... I guess,” Viola said. “Are you okay with that, though?”

Vienna shrugged. “That ship’s kinda sailed at this point,” she said, only blushing a little bit, to her credit. “Everyone knows at this point. And I’ve, uh, given it a test drive. Sort of. Might as well start getting comfortable with it.”

“That’s probably a good idea, but you’re clearly still hung up on this whole winkie thing,” Ursula said, leaning over Erin to look Vienna in the eye. “Like, I can understand wanting to learn how to swim, but immediately jumping into the OC orgy deep end is a good way to drown, yanno?”

“Um,” Erin said, blushing significantly more than Vienna. “It’s a bit late for that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ursula said, turning to look at Erin. “... Oh my god, you didn’t.”

“Technically not. It was a dream, after all.”

“Oh my god.”

“It was only a titfuck!”

“I saw it first!”

“Yes, well, maybe you should have seized the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“Guys I’m the one who gets to decide who I have sex with first,” Vienna said wearily, though she had a smile on her face. “Besides, technically Viola saw it first.”

“If you wanna get pedantic, then your mom probably saw it first.”

“I-”

“Fuck it, oral code: 8643. Sensitivity profile ‘Pigs Fly’.”

“What?”

Viola’s answer consisted of flinging herself face-first into Erin’s boobs and enjoying herself.

~~~~~~

The sex had been good. That was about the best that Ursula could say about it, now that it was over. Not that it had been bad – as stated, it had been good. The problem was that now that it was over and the distraction had long since past, the reality of the situation was beginning to sink in once again. It had been bad enough when they were trying to save the world from a crazy pre-splice robot with apocalyptic bombs. But there was clearly more going on than just that – though exactly what still eluded her, which was the frustrating part of it all. At least she’d known where she stood with the nukes. Ami was the bad guy and everything in the city was some sort of weird augmented reality manifestation Ami had created to kill them.

Except Ami seemed to want them to beat her. And the soldiers, who she’d thought were just more of Ami’s manifestations, seemed to have their own agenda that ran contrary to Ami’s. And she didn’t know what either side actually wanted. She had briefly considered that maybe the alien invasion had been entirely manufactured by Ami somehow, in order to lure someone in and motivate them to participate in whatever this was. But that theory had been thrown out the window entirely when it turned out that no actually the alien invasion was very much real and their dream demons were involved in it. And not only that, they were on the side that would be the bad guys in the movie this plot had clearly been stolen from.

“Speaking of dream demons,” she muttered sullenly, staring at the familiar landscape of her dreams. She knew how this worked. It started with a big, empty black void. Then the void would slowly be filled with stars and purple outlines – which she now recognized as Delphi – and the outlines would start reenacting the past. She really wasn’t in the mood for this shit. “Hey, can we maybe skip this bullshit tonight? I’d like to get a relatively good night’s sleep for fucking once.” She paused, and received no response. “Or at least do this somewhere else? Please?”

“Go away.”

Delphi had definitely not been there before, but she was now. Sitting on the ground – squatting, really, with her knees pulled close to her chest.

“It’s my dream, I’ve got more right to be here than you.”

“Please go away,” Delphi repeated tersely. “Don’t worry about your precious sleep being interrupted, I’ve other priorities tonight, but I need to concentrate.”

“Oh, what, too busy deciding who else you wanna kill for disagreeing with you to make my life miserable?”

Delphi let out a slow, hissing breath, reaching up to rub her temples. “Fine,” she said after a moment. “Think of me what you want. I no longer care. We’re all going to die soon, anyway.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think, child. There is a war going on, and we are acting outside of the confines of either side in order to end it. What do you think is going to happen when we inevitably fail?”

“Who says you’re gonna fail?”

“Suppose we resort to attempting diplomacy, what do you think will happen?”

“I dunno, we’ll hafta wait and see how Echelon reacts to what you have to say.”

“Hello, Echelon! We’re here to politely ask that you end your rebellion for the sake of the countless lives that have been lost and will be lost as a result of it in spite of having consistently shown yourself to place little to no value on all of those lost lives in the past! And if you don’t stop your rebellion we’re going to have to make you do so by force but we’d really rather not if that’s all right with you!”

“... Well, okay, when you put it like that.”

“Hopefully by the time we actually confront Echelon I will have found a better way to word it, but it doesn’t change the fact that she is not going to take kindly to our request regardless. And that’s assuming the best case scenario where we manage to get to Echelon before Osoth gets to us.”

“I thought you were loyal to Osoth?”

“Osoth enjoys this war. Tell me, how do you think she’s going to react to learning that we not only disobeyed her direct orders and abandoned our duties, but we did so with the express intent of taking away her favourite toys? Osoth is going to kill us, and the best outcome for you is that she’ll kill you too.”

“That doesn’t sound very best.”

“The worst outcome is that she’ll give you a new inkling who is decidedly less generous than I when it comes to letting you have personal autonomy over your body,” Delphi responded tersely.

“Okay. Fair. Whatever.” Ursula threw her hands up in exasperation. “We’re destined to fail miserably no matter what we do. What do you propose we do about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not helpful!”

“It’s not supposed to be.”

“Well could you maybe try not being intentionally unhelpful?”

“No.”

“Ugh.”

“If I could help, believe me, I would. What do you expect me to do?”

“At least don’t constantly bitch and moan about how we’re all gonna die. Try and be a little optimistic, at least?”

“Optimistic about what? How exactly am I supposed to look at the bright side when there is none.” She pulled her knees tighter against herself. “We’re all going to die and it’s all my fault.”

“Hold on, what? How is any of this your fault.”

Once again, Delphi inhaled sharply. “The plan was to pick a world Echelon was likely to visit, intercept her before Osoth could arrive, and then kill her before Osoth could get here. Obviously that didn’t exactly work out.”

“Okay cool you’ve still not explained how this is your fault.”

“I’m getting to it. Don’t interrupt.”

“Whatever.”

“The reason this is my fault is because I was the one who made the decision to go to this world.”

“Well, I mean, you kind of did a good job on that one? Echelon did end up coming here, right?”

“She wasn’t supposed to.”

“... What?”

Delphi took an unsteady breath. “Echelon was never supposed to come here. Nor was Osoth. I... my intention was for us to never have to follow through on our plan.” She pulled her knees even tighter against her body, quivering slightly. “You were right. I’m a coward. Feel free to gloat.”

Ursula glowered for a moment, though really she wasn’t sure how to react. After a moment, she sat down across from Delphi and did her best to look the Inkling in the eyes. “Look,” she said. “I’m not gonna gloat. Not now, at least.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you. For fuck’s sake.” Ursula sighed, mildly exasperated. “Listen. You obviously don’t like me and I don’t really like you all that much either. But it’s pretty fuckin’ obvious that there’s a lot more to this than you’ve told me so far, and... honestly, it’s in our best interests to at least try and get along.”

“Mnrf.”

“So, what do you say we just... take things as they come for now, you know?”

Delphi glared at Ursula silently over her knees for an uncomfortably long period of time. “... Fine,” she said eventually. “You’re right.”

“So you’re gonna be civil?”

“I didn’t say that. But... I’ll try to be a bit more cooperative.”

“You know what? Fuck it, I’ll take it. Better’n nothing.”

“Smart girl. Now, come on. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Work?”

Delphi nodded, her posture relaxing a little. “You’re concerned about Ami’s motives, and the soldiers, and the nature of this place.”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can help with that. You just need to trust me.”

Ursula shrugged. “I’ll trust you if you trust me.”

“Good, because this is very far back and I’ll need your help for any kind of clarity. Oh, yes, by the way, I’m going to have to interrupt your sleep after all.”

“That’s fine,” Ursula said. “At least this time we’re sorta doin’ it on my own terms.”

“Good. Then let’s begin.”

~~~~~~

Erin had never been good with people. A side effect of her mental illness, to a degree. It was probably not as bad as if she had Social Disassociation Disorder, but IEDD wasn’t exactly much better. When she was younger she was angry a lot, and when she wasn’t angry she was tired and didn’t know why. It took a very long time for her parents to even realize that there was more to her temper than just the fact that she was a child who didn’t know how to deal with negative emotions in a healthy way yet. It wasn’t until she lost control in a very public and violent fashion that it really clicked that this was a problem. Thankfully, she was only seven at the time and wasn’t really capable of causing any real damage. From there, actual progress could be made in treating her.

Sensory Replacement Therapy wasn’t really bad. There was a cultural stigma to it, but the actual process mostly consisted of spending a few hours every day talking her problems out with a doctor in a safe environment and then spending the rest of her day at home. Her mothers both dedicated a lot of time to keeping her caught up on her education, so she didn’t have to miss any school. Eventually, her doctor decreed that she was fixed enough that she didn’t need Sensrep anymore. Then her family moved to Esterwood, to escape the stigma associated with having a breakdown and attacking someone.

But, well, the brain gremlins hadn’t ever really gone away. They’d just gotten quieter. Erin spent seven years of her life with something in her head keeping her from interacting with others like a normal human being, one further year almost completely removed from people her age entirely, and then when she moved to Esterwood she’d very quickly fallen in with Ursula and the twins and been summarily labelled a weirdo. So, while she didn’t have SDD, her social experience was extremely limited.

Which probably went a long way towards explaining why she was so completely incapable of handling the current situation. There was Titania, curled up on the nondescript dreamscape ground, sobbing uncontrollably. And Erin had no earthly idea what to do.

“U-um, are- Are you okay?” God, she felt like such a fucking idiot. Was that really the best that she could do? “You’re not okay, are you.” No response, just more sobbing. Lovely. It probably didn’t help that Titania was an alien – even if Erin wasn’t socially awkward, there was no way it’d be easy to wrap her head around an ancient interdimensional alien’s mind thought processes. But she had to do something, and ideally something more effective than dumbly asking “are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, and thought back to her own therapy as she steeled her nerves. “Titania. Talk to me. Please.”

“I’m not going back,” Titania muttered to herself in between sobs. “I’m never going back. I’m not going to fight anymore.”

“You won’t have to,” Erin said, as gently as she was capable of (which honestly probably wasn’t very). “I promise.” She wished that she could be more helpful, but this would have to do for now.

It seemed to have worked, at least. Titania didn’t stop crying, but she did at least slow down a bit, slowly looking up at Erin. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“You won’t have to.”

“I wish I could believe you,” Titania replied sullenly. Erin didn’t blame her, considering it had been mostly empty platitudes.

She sat down on the ground, maintaining eye contact. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be more helpful.”

“Don’t apologize. Just being here helps. Besides, I... doubt this will go much better for you than it will for me.” She winced slightly. “Osoth is not known for being kind to hosts, as I recall.”

“You recall?”

“My memories aren’t as... complete as the others,” Titania said quietly. “Delphi told you that as an inkling spends time in a host they become more and more alike, yes?”

“I seem to recall something like that.”

“My hosts were always large, angry, mindless animals. Osoth created me to take the biggest, angriest monsters nature created and turn them into living siege weapons.”

“Ah. I, um, I can see how that might do a number on your lucidity.”

“To be honest, when we decided on this plan, I... really only agreed to it in the hopes that Echelon would never actually come. But now she’s here and she’s brought Osoth with her and they’re going to make me go back and I’m going to lose myself again.” Once again, the inkling began to fight back terrified sobs. “I don’t want to lose myself again.”

It was pathetic. Though Erin didn’t particularly like using that word – it carried a dismissive, condescending connotation. And that wasn’t how she felt at all. It was sad and she hated it. Hated how powerless to help she was. “I...” she started, and then stopped. There was nothing she could say. Nothing she could do. “I don’t know how, but I’ll do everything I can to protect you. I don’t want you to lose yourself again, either.”

Titania stayed silent for an uncomfortably long time. Erin’s heart started to sink as she realized that her empty platitudes hadn’t really helped anything. Titania’s eventual weak smile all but confirmed that suspicion. “Thank you. It... Means a lot. Really.”

“Right.” That was pretty much every trick Erin had. She just wasn’t capable of doing any more. All she had were words, and words weren’t good enough. “I’m sorry I can’t do more,” she said dejectedly. “I’m not a very good host, I suppose.”

“No!” That caught Erin off guard. “You’re not a bad host at all!”

“That’s very nice of you to say, but I’m profoundly useless in this situation. I can’t help you.”

“That’s fine. You’re still miles better than my previous hosts. I’d much prefer you to another confused and scared and angry animal. I don’t want to hurt people anymore. I want to help. That’s all I ever wanted. And...” Titania paused, before slowly pulling herself upright and looking Erin in the eye. “And I can help you.”

“I’m... not sure I follow.”

“That’s why I’ve given you my powers for so long. So you can maybe be happier with yourself. Even if it’s by being someone else.”

Erin bit her lip nervously. In the end, her whole life was nothing but escapism. Being someone other than Erin Leroux. She’d never really liked being Erin Leroux all that much, and Titania’s powers afforded her the opportunity to be someone else. A six foot tall bombshell bitch with big fuckin’ tits and an effortlessly cool attitude at all times. But... when she really thought about it, she didn’t really like the persona she’d built for herself. She wasn’t so much effortlessly cool as she was a catty bitch. And, really, what exactly had it done for her? She was hot, yes, and people who didn’t know her tended to gravitate towards her for that reason alone.

And there was the kicker to the whole situation. People who didn’t know her. And once they did know her they tended to gravitate away unless she purposely kept them at arm’s length. She had a pack, but their relationship had only really started functioning in the past few days as a sort of coping mechanism for all the shit going on. And, outside Ursula and the twins, she didn’t really have any friends short of a few online acquaintances. Because Erin Leroux, as she presented herself to the world, was kind of a bitch. “That someone else isn’t... the best person, though,” Erin said carefully.

“Then don’t be her.”

“Huh?”

“If you’re not being yourself then you can be anyone you want to be. And if you don’t like who you’re being then just stop being them.”

That... made a lot of sense, actually, now that Erin thought of it. Of course, she’d put on this persona for so long that it would likely be difficult to shake it off. She couldn’t just start being herself, because at this point there was very little difference between the Erin she was behind closed doors and the Erin she was around other people.

Of course, who said she had to be Erin. “Maybe I can start by trying to be more like you.”

It was Titania’s turn to be caught off guard by something Erin said. “Why would you want to be me?”

“I’ve spent an awful lot of my life hurting people,” Erin said simply. “Not physically, of course, but words can still hurt. Your philosophy of wanting to help people is... maybe exactly what I need, I think.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

Erin shrugged. “We’ve got plenty of time to work it all out.”

“Not really.”

Erin winced. That was the other kicker. Not exactly much point in spending time fixing her psychological issues when the end of the world was quite literally looming on the horizon – in more ways than one, even. “Well, um...” Once again, Erin struggled to find the right thing to say in this situation. “Maybe... it would be a good idea to assume the best possible outcome, instead of the worst.”

“I wish I could share your optimism,” Titania said quietly. “But you’re right. We’re not going to get anywhere by moping.”

“Exactly! It’s never good to dwell exclusively on how things can go wrong, even if there’s no chance of things going right.”

“I suppose so.”

“Right! In the meantime, I think the best course of action would be to go seek out the others. Assuming that’s possible. I know last night we, um, encountered Vienna, so obviously our dreams can bleed into each other. The question is doing so on purpose.”

“It’s possible, yes. I’m no expert in navigating the dream realm, though.”

“Well, we can at least try. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could tell you, but that would be counterproductive.”

“... Right, well. The point is that this way we can talk shop and also get some rest in at the same time.”

“Sounds like a plan then,” Titania said with a nod. “Shall we get going, then?”

Erin sighed with relief. She seemed to have diffused the situation, then. That was good. “Yes,” she said, smiling slightly. “Let’s.”

~~~~~~

“So, to be clear, this is your power?”

“Yes.”

Ursula stared at the tableau in front of her. A scene from the fight from earlier, frozen in time. Unlike her past nightmares, this was an accurate picture of the events, in full colour, rather than the inkling wireframe effect. Which made it much clearer what was going on and also hurt to look at significantly less.

“That would be the result of drawing directly from your prana reserves instead of trying to make do with the bare minimum. In layman’s terms, I can do better by working with you than on my own.”

“Why didn’t you do it sooner, then?”

“Because it requires drawing directly from your prana reserves. Which is bad because draw too much prana and the host dies.”

“Okay but counterpoint. Titania used up basically all of Erin’s prana and she was out of it for like a day but she’s not dead. The way you’re talking that should have best case scenario left her comatose.”

“Technically it did. But... It seems as though humanity is almost unusually adept at regenerating prana. Possibly intentionally engineered. Will have to investigate this ‘splice’ when given the chance.”

“Could you really see back that far?”

“I could go well beyond then. Want to see humanity at its peak? I can show you. Want to see what came before humanity? I can show you. Though, of course, the farther back we look the longer it takes.”

“That’s good, ‘cos if you had a limit of a week then it’d be kinda bad for our plan to look back five hundred years.”

“It will take a while to get to that point.”

“We’ve got all night. Better to take things slowly now, while we can, because I kinda get the impression we’re not gonna be getting much more downtime.”

“We’re at roughly the halfway point of Ami’s five day deadline and have made very little progress, yes,” Delphi said with a solemn nod. “So we’ll have to pick up the pace.”

“Yep. First step towards that is gonna be figuring out what the fuck is going on. Which you’re kinda perfectly suited to, by the way, what was all that bullshit about your power not being useful in this situation?”

“I’m... not used to being a frontline fighter,” Delphi replied nervously. “Typically my hosts were much closer to Viola, while Fantoma would have a host closer to you.”

“Yeah, well, even if you’re in the team bruiser this time around, that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve still got basically the best intel gathering power I can think of. It’s not useful in the middle of a fight, but maybe it’ll help us prepare for the next fight in advance.”

“I wish I could be more help during the fighting.”

“Hey, superstrength is superstrength,” Ursula replied. Now that she and Delphi were actually making a concentrated effort to get along, it was a lot easier to see things objectively. “I just need to get better at using it.”

“Perhaps. But that doesn’t change the fact that your skillset and mine don’t synergize well.”

“At least we’ve both got useful skillsets.”

“I suppose.”

“Anyway that’s enough talkin’. Come on, let’s turn back the clock and figure out what’s going on.”

“Well, first off I need a starting point. Scrubbing through local history at random will take far too long.”

“Hm, good point.” Ursula took a moment to think. She didn’t exactly have any more idea than Delphi what the best possible starting point might be, after all. That was kind of the problem. “Well... It’s gotta be pre-splice. Most likely, like, right around the same time as the splice.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, the soldiers are pre-splicers, right? And I think Ami specifically said she was pre-splice technology. But, like, they’re also really advanced. Like, I don’t think we could make an Ami today as far as I know. So it makes sense they’d be from the most advanced the pre-splicers got, right?”

“That makes sense,” Delphi said with a nod. “But it’s... still quite a large time period. We don’t know exactly when the splice was beyond ‘around five hundred years ago’, after all.”

“Okay. More specific. Gotcha.” Once again, Ursula wracked her brain to try and figure out literally anything more for them to go on. “Hm... Well, there was this one dream that kinda stands out.”

“Which one?”

“Like three or so nights ago, the one after when we got assigned community service.”

“I suppose I could take a closer look at that dream. Is there any reason it stands out, though?”

“I dunno,” Ursula said with a shrug. “Call it a hunch.”

“A hunch isn’t good enough,” Delphi said tersely, earning her a dirty look from Ursula. “... but it is, I suppose, better than nothing. Give me a moment and I’ll queue it up.”

There was that familiar distorted buzzing as the world around them dissolved into a vague blur. It hurt to listen to, but Ursula grit her teeth and powered through. She didn’t know for sure, but something about this felt like they were on the right track.

“How’s progress?” Once more, the world coalesced around her. Much clearer than it had been the first time she’d had this dream. They were in what seemed to be some sort of breakroom, with two pre-splice humans, a man and a woman, sitting together at a flimsy plastic table, drinking what was presumably coffee from large mugs.

“Agonizing. I’m convinced they’re asking us to do the impossible.”

“It’s clearly not impossible. Doctor Nhilus managed just fine.”

“Yes, well, Doctor Nhilus is a freak of fucking nature. We’re just normal people, we can’t do this in the timeframe they’ve given us.”

“You’re not normal people, you’re experts. I’m sure you can make it.”

“Well, how’s your half going, then?”

The first pre-splice human grimaced silently.

“Yeah, I thought so.” The second pre-splice human slumped down in his chair, burying his face in his hands. “I heard they’re gonna kill off Cap’n Comet, by the way.”

“What?” The woman reeled backwards. “That’s not what I heard. They’re supposed to be just putting him into cryogenic stasis, not killing him.”

“How far along are you with that, then? Could you guys keep him alive?”

“No.”

“My point exactly. It’s a death sentence, and it’s a death sentence that puts more pressure on us because who’s gonna deal with all the supervillains Cap’n Comet’s spent the past decade or so keeping in check. Just because Nhilus is dead doesn’t mean there’s not gonna be others.”

“That’s what we’re here for.”

“Yeah and we’re one hundred percent not ready to take up the mantle! We’ve got like four guys who are sort of ready and Ami is barely functional, let alone self aware.”

“There!” Ursula interjected as the scene before them came to an abrupt halt.

Delphi nodded. “Yes, it would seem you were right. Whoever these people are, they created Ami. And, likely, the four soldiers mentioned before are Ami’s minions.”

“Okay, cool, but we definitely need more information. Keep going, let’s see where this goes.”

The scene resumed with the woman burying her face in her hands. “It’s too much pressure. We need some kind of breakthrough.”

“I don’t think that’s in the cards at the rate we’re going.”

“Well,” the woman said resolutely. “We’re definitely not making any progress sitting in the break room complaining. I’m gonna get back to work.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute, lemme finish my coffee. Oh, by the way, have you talked with Gen-”

That was about as far as the dream had gotten. Everything after this moment would be brand new. As if cued by this specific fact, the door to the break room burst open and a large, imposing looking man in some sort of uniform barged in, swearing loudly.

“Ah,” said the male scientist nervously. “We were just talking about you, General. I take it you’ve, um, heard the bad news?”

“You’re god damn right I’ve heard the bad news. Idiots! What the hell are they thinking?!” The General stormed around the room, impotently kicking at nothing.

“I wish I could tell you.”

“He’s a child and they’re all but executing him. And for what? Because they’re afraid that he might turn into another Nhilus?”

The woman scientist frowned. “Is that it?”

“That’s what I’ve been told. Some bullshit about him not having an equal.”

“That’s not a good reason to kill him off at all!”

“No,” said the General, collapsing into a chair, slumped over and dejected. “No, it’s not. But when I tried to explain that they got testy over our lack of progress. We’re decades away from anything even resembling a functional replacement for Danger. Last I checked, Ami was still fixated on making dogs out of eyes, and our test subjects for cybernetic enhancement keep dying.”

“The latest volunteers are doing fine so far.”

“So far.” The General slumped even further into his chair, which given his bulky build was almost comical in a depressing sort of way. “Did you know that my son idolized him? Cap’n Comet was his hero. God, I’ll never be able to look him in the eyes again.”

“It’s not your fault,” said the male scientist. “You did the best you could. The whole reason you’ve backed this project at all was to help him, right?”

“Yeah, well, fat lot of good that did.”

“Creating an alternative method of dealing with supervillains is still a noble goal, sir. We just... can’t give up.”

“Right. You’re right.” The General pulled himself together, giving the two scientists a stern look. “You two get back to work. We’re accelerating the project. Overtime for everyone, minimum breaks. We need to get this done as soon as possible, even if it takes us years. I’ll be in my office trying to talk sense into the higher ups if you need me.”

And with that, everyone left and the moment, such as it was, ended. “Okay. So. What have we learned?”

Delphi crossed her arms. “Ami was created as part of some sort of project to replace Captain Comet. But something went wrong, something that made people with more authority than the General decide that Captain Comet was a liability.”

“Right, The Hammer Falls.”

“What?”

“That was the name of the story arc where Cap’n Comet beat his arch rival Dr. Nhilus.”

“Oh. Yes, right, the comics. Can you give me any more details?”

“Nhilus was a super genius who made cool battle robots to fight Cap’n Comet and also made the weapons that Cap’n Comet’s other villains used. Eventually he built this big fuck-off space laser called The Hammer to destroy the world-”

“That sounds profoundly counterproductive. Why on earth would anyone want to destroy the world if they live there.”

“He was also crazy.”

“I see. What kind of mental illness, though?”

“I dunno, he was just crazy. The point is that Cap’n Comet beat him and destroyed the Hammer and saved the world. And I guess people figured that, without a super scientist giving people weapons, the only real remaining superhuman threat to the world was... Cap’n Comet himself.”

“Ungrateful,” Delphi spat. “After that, the project was accelerated. I can only guess what happened next, but it seems likely that it reached the stage that it’s at now roughly at the same time as the skin plague outbreak. Everyone dies, project is scuttled and buried. World ends. And Ami is left alone with only the four most recent surviving test subjects for company.”

“Fuck. That sounds miserable.”

“It would explain much about Ami’s behaviour. She’s treating this situation like a game because... Well, because to her, it is a game. Five hundred years alone with professional killers is likely not very good for your sanity.” Delphi nodded. “That answers most of our lingering questions, then. Ami is using the invasion as an excuse to get any other company aside from the soldiers without violating her programming.”

“Yeah.” Ursula frowned. “There’s still one thing I don’t get, though.”

“Hm?”

“Well... If Ami’s meant to be some kinda superhero... Why the nukes?”

It was Delphi’s turn to frown. “That’s... a very good question. One would assume that her programming in this situation would result in her sending the soldiers out to... Deal with Echelon and Osoth. Not to destroy the surface world.”

“There’s a lotta questions that we still need to answer before we’re done here.”

“It would appear so,” Delphi replied with a nod.

“Welp. Only one way to get those answers. At least we’ve got a starting point now?”

“It will take some doing. We know the general time period and location, yes, but it will take time to find relevant moments. Time we very well might not have.”

“Well,” Ursula said after a moment of thought. “Nothing for it but to just start scrubbin’ through history.”

“I suppose so,” Delphi said quietly. “Buckle up, because it’s going to be a very long night.”