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TO Rewrite: B3 — 28. Misfortune’s Guidance
🕑 Added 2025-01-21 23:21:25 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Grace Alexander (Our Calamity of Jane!)
2. Gray (Our Fablekin Tactician Fire Boy!)
3. Black (Our Fablekin Rat Pied Piper!)
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Grace wiped sweat from her brow, her heartbeat steady despite the unease gnawing at her gut. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m not likin’ how things are goin’,” she muttered, adjusting her holster as the passageway behind them crumbled, trapping them inside. “This here’s feelin’ like one of them fairytale ambushes, and I ain’t keen on findin’ out what’s hidin’ behind the next corner.”
[Limit Break - Calamity’s Bullet: 1,112,442%]
“I think that’s the point, Señorita,” El Santo grinned, the gleam of his teeth visible even in the dim glow of the shifting sapphire stones. “Are we not already living in a tale of grand proportions as Legends?” He stepped forward confidently, boots grinding against the polished stone. “What do you make of the Hare’s petals suddenly coming to a stop?”
The air was thick with the scent of old stone and forgotten magic, the labyrinth stretching before them in shadowed corridors etched with ancient djinn sigils. Green, Gray, Red, Black, and Morgiana hovered nearby at the fork, eyeing their guiding flowers. The Fables were all looking between Black and Green, the quiet woman’s large ears twitching as she listened—in a way, she reminded her of her new boss.
Grace shot the large man a sidelong glance and chuckled, trying to keep her wits about her. “Yeah, no clue here, big guy. Remember, I haven’t even been in Omen for more than half a day. What have I learned? Rachel’s brutal as hell and does whatever the hell she wants! My kind of gal, honestly. But…”
She hissed, glancing at the strange design of the walls and what adorned them. The traps and guards that had first risen to meet them were now behind the collapsed hallway behind them. Whispered secrets pulsed through the veined floor and ceiling of the giant underground passageways beneath the palace. Murals flickered on the walls with the illusion of movement, depicting battles between sultans and monstrous creatures of sand and flame.
“Is it just me, or do we feel like a bunch of sidekicks in her big ol’ show? Y’all know what I’m gettin’ at, right?”
Green, arms crossed and ears alert, scanning for threats, sighed. “Clearly, we’ve hit some kind of checkpoint. Sometimes our Fable worlds can act like a video game, or so I’ve heard from some of our other members. I’m guessing Rachel’s petals are giving us time to rest and collect ourselves because…all I hear is silence. Uncomfortable silence. Like predators are waiting to ambush us.”
Gray hummed, pale flames flickering at his fingertips as he studied the paintings. “I was skeptical of Rachel after hearing Black’s report but…this is beyond anything I expected. If I were to put it simply. She’s essentially operating at Level 100, possibly beyond that, while we’re down here in our early or mid teens.”
“She’s a brute, for sure,” Red added with a bored huff, hands held behind her head, tail lazily weaving behind her. “I was almost taken out by Eldritch shit back in Elizabeth’s Legend Quest, but her team purified it. It’s pretty obvious they’ve hunted these types of things before.”
“For real?” Grace popped her tongue and adjusted her hat while checking her revolver bullets. “Well, the devil’s seed seems to be doin’ its—” A tremor ran through the stone, knocking even El Santo’s feet out and taking them to the ground.
“Shit! What kind of bunkin’ bronco is this ride?”
[Limit Break - Calamity’s Bullet: 2,345,572,341%]
“Well, butter my biscuits, there ain’t no way…”
The painting on the wall fell, smacking the ground. Grace hissed, rubbing her rear and puffing out her cheeks in a low chuckle as the pictures rippled like water. It soon passed. And Grace just sat on the ground, vision distant.
El Santo snapped his fingers in front of her face with a strained grin. “Need help up?”
Grace puffed out a hearty laugh, smacking her knee and reaching up to push her hat down. “Appreciate it, Santo. If I’d known we’d be rollin’ with royalty, I’d have worn my Sunday best—stolen, of course. You know, I think I walked beside the devil…and shook her hand.”
Green’s ear twitched as she glanced down at her, steading herself. “What are you talking about, Grace?”
Accepting the Mexican man’s hand, she got up with a low whistle. Bringing up her quaking hand, she flashed her teeth. What are you, Rachel?
[Limit Break - Calamity’s Bullet: 3,844,572,891%]
Straightening her ripped button up shirt and pulling up her tight jeans higher on her hips, Grace shook her head. “I can tell you, I’ve feared no man… I’m far from a saint,” she muttered, feeling an unbelievable amount of power—beyond anything she’d ever experienced swelling within her. “My knees wanna hit the ground and pray.”
Green steadied herself and looked at the floating petals, a cautious frown pulling at her lips. “I’m guessing you’ve got an idea about what that was?”
“Pfft!” Grace used the barrel of her revolver to nudge her hat back, eyes fixed on the paintings, their slow, eerie ripples stirring somethin’ deep in her gut. “Sugar, I’ve kicked up my fair share of dust storms, raised some hell in my own Legend Quest, but this?” Her fingers tapped against the steel, heartbeat rattlin’ under her ribs. “A vault full o’ TNT barely nudged me past 15%. But this?” She let out a low whistle, the weight of it all settling heavy in her bones. “This here’s somethin’ else… Damn near planetary.”
[Limit Break - Calamity’s Bullet: 5,878,652,828%]
She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry as her gaze dropped to the pistol in her hand, the weight feelin’ heavier than ever. “Well, ain’t this a fine mess.” Her grip tightened, but the numbness in her fingers made it feel like holdin’ onto a rattlesnake. “Feels like I’m sittin’ on a keg o’ dynamite and someone’s playin’ with a match. You reckon it’s even safe for me to pull that trigger? ‘Cause I’m gettin’ real twitchy just thinkin’ about it.”
El Santo followed her gaze to the paintings, the adorable folk hero completely missing the context while trying to mirror her. “We got some nasty critters crawlin’ around in there, don’t we? Ahem. Y’all reckon we’re really set for this kinda place? If Rach is Level 100, what kinda vault are we cracking open?”
Morgiana’s voice held a tremble but a firm resolve. “Lord Ali is at the bottom of this place… I can’t fail him. I was supposed to keep a watchful eye on our enemies…but I got distracted for one night… One night.”
Grace huffed, tipping her hat higher. “Happens to the best of us, sugar. To me weekly. Ain’t no quittin’ now. Just hope Rach’s plan doesn’t leave us flat in the dirt.” Her eyes flicked to the crumbling corridor to the left fork, her revolver feeling heavier by the second.
[Limit Break - Calamity’s Bullet: 7,424,682,981%]
Morgiana struggled to her feet. “I have faith she’s accounted for our lower levels. She’s accelerated us to a speed that bypasses most security. Most of the traps don’t activate, as well. I’ve seen many things that we’ve triggered that are frozen in time, like everything else.”
“You got a point, girly,” Red laughed, twisting her ax around her forearm. “Are we going to sit here forever or get our teeth dirty? The wolf in me is getting hungry, and if I don’t feed her, she gets cranky.”
“I reckon trouble will find us, darlin’.” Grace chuckled, adjusting her hat with a flick of her thumb. “So, what’s the plan, Fireman? We wranglin’ up Ali Baba and givin’ that prissy princess a good ol’ knuckle sandwich, or what? We’re still ridin’ this rodeo for Rach’s brother, right? That bomb business and all? Just makin’ sure, ‘cause I ain’t one for overcomplicatin’ things.”
Gray eyed the paintings before shifting his attention to the floating petals that shriveled and bloomed in a constant rhythm. “Rachel’s calculated. Maybe too calculated. This may have started with her brother, but after going all out, it seems she’s stumbled onto something bigger… The thing is, we can’t really get off this ride.”
“That is what I was about to say,” Black stated, flipping through a small notebook, her gaze distant. “Rachel is moving like someone who already knows the ending or at least has a good idea of what it will be. That’s the part that worries me.” She closed the book with a soft snap. “But we don’t have the luxury of doubting her now. We’ll demand answers once this is over… And, if we don’t survive, the truth won’t matter.”
“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” Grace snickered, tugging at the fresh rips in her outfit. “I gotta say, this curse she slapped on me’s got me scratchin’ my head, yet with all this calamity, I think the Hare is onto somethin’. But here I am, doin’ my best, and she up and throws some kinda hoodoo on me. Real polite-like, Boss.”
Morgiana’s voice trembled slightly as a smaller tremor ran through the palace underground. “I don’t care about her plans… I likely won’t live by the end of this since I am merely a fable. But…Lord Ali is not, and has treated me more as a daughter than a slave.”
Grace huffed, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Guess that makes two of us. Just hope Rachel’s plan doesn’t end with a tragedy. I’m kind of excited, though. Never had my blood pump like this before. I can feel the calamity…and my Limit Break is goin’ insane!”
[Limit Break - Calamity’s Bullet: 13,442,771,191%]
The shadows stretched, dancin’ like they had a mind of their own, and then—slow-like—they peeled right off the walls and paintings, crawling with that oily, unnatural slick.
“Aw hell, here we go, Gracey” she muttered. Inky monsters began to pull out of the artwork but all of their focus was on the petals as they took the right path. “Time to ride! What’s the play, Lil’ Red?”
The wolf readied her ax and licked her lips. “We follow the trail, like every good girl should.”
* — * — *
The moment they took the right passage, the atmosphere thickened, the whispering murals morphing into shadowed figures dancing along the labyrinth walls. Gray’s mind was sharp, calculating, but his pulse quickened as the shadows coiled and stretched, forming sluggish tendrils that trailed behind them, attempting to form into something solid. The slow closing of the corridors behind them did not go unnoticed.
Rachel’s story is one of chaos, he internally mused, his gray flames illuminating the shifting pathways to handle most of the ones behind them. Wherever she steps, disaster follows. A force of nature…or something far worse.
His lips pressed into a thin line. There are some powerful Mystics who can channel their deities’ power. The Crow have one who can do some incredible feats. But this? She’s practically writing her own rules. No wonder the Scarlet Hand has been wary of pushing her if she has access to this kind of power. She’s practically a god herself right now.
He flicked a glance at the others—Grace and El Santo bantering up ahead, Red’s tail flicking impatiently ahead of them as she joined in from time to time. Green’s shoulders tensed, scanning for threats in the center, keeping Morgiana safe.
He swept his hand forward, guiding a wave of flames along the left wall far ahead of them as Rachel’s petals took them left, locking the passage with a blaze that would burn for minutes. The cowgirl caught his eye, her thrilled smile falling as another shadow managed to rake her arm, somehow only catching her other sleeve to rip it off.
“Oh, c’mon! Where’s the protection, Santo!”
“I could always carry you?”
“Don’t tempt me, lover boy!”
Grace is the central part in Rachel’s plan… She seems to go after the real characters. Too many shadows ahead for Red to handle without activating her wolf Feats. We need to save that card.
He shot forward in a rush of fire to surpass them, making the cowgirl cry out. Gray thrust out his palm, conjuring a wall of pale blue fire that cut through the whole hallway and creeping shadows with surgical precision. They shrieked in silence, vanishing into cinders, but he knew this was only the beginning and immediately recalled it to conserve his fuel. Every step forward felt like playing into Rachel’s game, yet there was no turning back.
“Snap outta it, Fire Man,” Grace hollered, shooting him a look while her gun twirled easy at her hip, waiting to be used at a moment’s notice. “Damn near singed my britches with that! You gonna help us track down Ali Baba and light up the place, or you too busy wonderin’ just how deep that hare hole goes? Yeah, hare hole! No bunnies in this rodeo, ya hear me, Boss!”
Gray rolled his eyes but smirked faintly; she really was a character. “Let’s just say, I’m weighing our odds.”
“Don’t think too hard,” Red chimed in, scowling at him for taking her prey. “This place stinks of traps, even if we’re blitzing them, and if we get bogged down, those petals probably aren’t going to be waiting for us. Like you said, the hare calculates everything, so we’re on her clock.”
Grace huffed, stomping a foot against a shadow that latched onto it and sucked it in. “Just point me to—my other boot! Oh, hell no… Ma got me these for my fifteenth birthday!” She shot a glare at the shifting shadows while hopping away. “Rach, you better believe you owe me a whole new wardrobe after this mess, and it better not be gunnin’ for the shirt off my back next! I swear, I’ll blast the damn thing clear to kingdom come! Pervy shadows. Shit. You already took my sleeves.”
Green’s ears twitched. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Grace,” she muttered under her breath, tightening her grip on her shield.
“What the hell kind of fun is it havin’ the luck of a gal who tripped under a ladder, broke through a mirror, and got a black cat rippin’ into her face? I’m dyin’ here! I’m scared if I call out Jim, the poor boy will break an ankle!”
As they rounded another corner, the walls fell eerily silent, the flickering petals swirling in their path shrinking down to the size of dying embers.
And then, the hum started.
It was deep, resonant, vibrating through the marble and gold-etched pillars.
Gray’s stomach sank as Red yelled, “I feel two predators up ahead—scary shit.”
A low groan echoed from the walls, followed by the scraping of metal against stone. The murals of legendary sultans and djinn companions blurred, warping as the golden statues lining the chamber they’d run into shuddered, their blank faces igniting with sapphire light.
Grace muttered under her breath, “I knew it.” She spun her revolver. “Y’all just had to bring the house down. Let’s go!”
Treasure gleamed all along the walls of the vast room, coins, artifacts, and weapons. It all began to melt, moving with serpentine quickness compared to the shadows earlier. Within three steps, two amalgamations of metal and items reformed into colossal golems that blocked their path. A shimmering pearl gate was slowly falling to trap them in—exit and entrance.
The nearest guardian stepped forward, towering above them, its limbs moving with unnerving fluidity. Its jeweled eyes gleamed with bound magic, and its plated chest absorbed the golden glow of the chamber. It raised an ornate scimitar, the blade crackling with chained elemental energy.
“¡Allá vamos!” El Santo bellowed, lunging forward.
Gray raised his arms, sending a wave of heat forward, flames licking at the towering sentinel’s plated form, but instead of melting, the runes embedded in its core flared to life, redirecting the blue flames back at them and turning them violet.
“Green, reflective glyphs!” he barked. “They’ll turn our attacks against us!”
His partner braced her shield as the reflected fire slammed into her, only far harder and hotter than it should have been. the sheer force of it sending her skidding back. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface of her barrier, only just able to keep the others in its protective bubble as they forced themselves to stop.
“Damn it—that was with whatever Rachel’s doing to boost us!” she ground out, sweat trickling down her brow. “It amplified your fire. The gate, Gray!”
“Okay, these things are cheatin’. It’s my time to shine!” Grace roared, spinning up her revolver…only to hear that sickening click of a jam. “Twice, Rachel?!”
“Hunter’s ax bypasses defense!” Red lunged in with a wild grin, her axe cleaving into another guardian’s arm with a satisfying crunch, but instead of falling, the shattered limb reassembled itself, absorbing the surrounding treasure into its form and gaining a new glyph. “Shit. Morgiana?!”
The servant woman’s movements were fluid, weaving between the left one, her speed unnatural as she danced through the chaos. She reached out to pluck a red jewel out from the mass and smashed it on the ground, creating a surge of crimson electricity through it, bypassing its defenses and stunning it for a time—a new glyph formed.
Her gaze flickered with growing panic. “They’re adapting constructs! Far more advanced than anything Lord Ali Baba was experimenting with. They should be able to liquify and follow us, even if we get past the gate.”
A face appeared in the golden mirror above the exit, Princess Layla’s pretty, appraising stare; she was far less smug now. “I don’t know how you managed to break into our Dimensional Parallel, but you will never be able to reach us with my father’s defenses recognizing you as a threat… Die painfully within their Void Gem Cores, thieves.”
Gray cursed under his breath, eyes darting to the petals still leading deeper into the maze—they weren’t stopping. The world slowed as he caught Green’s narrowing eyes, ears straight, and he could practically hear the soldier’s thoughts.
Taking that at face value, even if we destroy them, they’ve got a failsafe. We can’t have these things at our back. Grace’s world breaking bullet isn’t meant for these. El Santo is basically her bodyguard and transportation without her horse. Morgiana is needed to explain the situation to Ali Baba. Red will always stick with Black. Which leaves…us.
“Red, pick up Morgiana and blitz to the next area,” he snapped. “Push forward with Grace! Find Ali Baba! Green and I will hold them off.”
Red bared her teeth. “I don’t like leaving you behind.”
Grace’s gaze snapped to the half-closed gate. “We won’t make it past those—”
“That’s an order. And trust me,” he replied grimly, stepping in front of the advancing guardians, twin orbs of pale fire igniting in his palms to create a veiling wall to block the recovering left one’s sight. “The sooner you finish things with the Princess, the better chance we’ll have.”
Black ran toward Red without hesitation, her cloak wrapping around her like shadows as she transformed into a rat; the rodent landed on the brown-haired teen’s front as the wolf accelerated, snatching the shocked serving girl off her feet.
“Just don’t die, old man!” She vanished in rose petals just before a scimitar cut through them.
Green’s shield vanished, bending low and becoming a blur as she shot toward El Santo and Grace, manipulating time. Luckily, the man had already swept the cowgirl off her feet. She threw both into the air toward the opening as hard as she could. The folk hero had enough sense to hold the young woman close and fall in a way to protect her.
“If we survive this. Let’s all go out and get something to eat…like a shake. I’m feeling a shake, fries, and burger.”
All they heard was Grace’s shrieks. Perhaps the one stroke of good luck she had was keeping hold of her revolver. They saw them land and roll under the gate just before the spiked ends pinned them to the stone floor.
Green reappeared beside him in a flash, shield materializing again as she swapped stances to eat the next strike, making her flinch. Her cracked shield trembled under another brutal impact. “We can’t hold ‘em forever, you know. Make White proud, girls.”
Gray’s flames swirled, building into something far more destructive than before, his mind working at breakneck speed. “We don't need to. Just long enough for them to get ahead… Then we follow.”
“What?” Green asked through a forced snicker as she retreated from another blow to deflect it. “You don’t think I can keep you safe?”
“You? Absolutely not. You can hardly keep your hair safe from the curler.”
“Oh, shut up. That was last year.”
Grace cursed, sliding to a stop within El Santo’s protective grip. “Y’all better be worth it,” she muttered, rising up again and summoning her horse. “I hate this place. Jim, it’s game time. Hop on, big guy!”
Green smirked despite the pressure as she glanced at him. “Will you at least buy me the expensive wine this time, cheapskate?”
Gray’s eyes narrowed. “We can negotiate the definition of expensive later, but sure.”
Flames erupted from his hands in a spiraling torrent, not to attack but to blind. Green followed up with a bash of her shield, sending one crashing into another, buying them seconds—precious seconds they needed.
How do we win? We don’t. He snatched a scepter infused into one of their bodies. But using their items should buy us some time.
In the back of his mind, Gray couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on him, though. Rachel knew something they didn’t. This isn’t just about her brother anymore. The question was if she’d been taken over by her Eldritch nature or had become a totally different person.
His focus sharpened as another guardian lunged forward, its sapphire eyes burning with arcane knowledge. “Move!” he barked, dragging Green and using his flames to teleport them two meters away before the massive scimitar vanished and came crashing down, shattering the stone floor where they’d been standing. Dust choked the air, but Gray's mind was already working, searching for their next move.
Is this the type of ending all of our Fable Reams have? Do all of us have one of these Eldritch seeds at the core? I suppose I should thank you for revealing so much, Rachel… If you don’t get us all killed.
* — * — *
The remnants of Gray and Green’s fight faded behind them, the sounds of fire and steel echoing through the labyrinth like ghosts. Black could still hear the dull thud of impacts, the crackle of magic, and the telltale hum of Rachel’s petals leading them deeper into the palace’s bowels.
She clung tightly to Red’s front, her smaller frame pressing against the wolf girl’s lean, muscular form beneath the snug leather and strapped-down weaponry. The thick combat vest Red wore wasn’t exactly the softest thing to be plastered against, but Black didn’t mind—it kept her grounded by the severity of the situation.
The warmth radiating from the wolf’s core, the rhythmic thud of her heartbeat, it was all oddly reassuring in the face of the unknown. If anything, I know Red isn’t scared of anything… How she can be so excited when faced with what Rachel became, though…
She heard Grace’s complaints. Rachel’s petals swirled ahead like eerie breadcrumbs, their crimson glow flickering in and out as if teasing them—leading them deeper, yet always staying just out of reach. Black tightened her grip on Red’s vest, feeling the taut straps press against her tiny fingers.
What kind of game are you playing, Rachel? You knew Elizabeth’s Legend Quest was a Tier-Two, which put it on a different level compared to the ones we were used to dealing with. The fact she knew that meant she already dealt with it…likely from her battle with Conner in his Legend Quest. Still, how intense must that have been for her to already be this powerful. It’s only been about two months since The Oscillation began.
It was all too perfect.
Fable had spent far more than months infiltrating these underground networks, bargaining with shady figures, and unraveling the intricacies of the world powers. Yet Rachel had kicked down the door, founded Omen on a whim, flashing that eerie grin of hers as if she knew more than they could fathom. Where she went, everything started falling into place. The hare had guided them down paths that had all but neutralized the maze’s obstacles with unnatural precision, as if she’d known the layout before stepping foot inside.
Black’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Something’s off. Her beady eyes flicking to Grace and El Santo, riding ahead on the brunette’s steed, Jim. Rachel was always somewhat of an enigma. Mythickin generally have unnatural powers and unique abilities if developed right. Rachel, though… Divine, Infernal, Eldritch… It’s as if she has a comprehensive understanding of every aspect of existence and it bends around her.
Black didn’t trust it, not one bit. Yet, at some level, she considered Rachel friendly with them, despite her misgivings. And here they were, chasing after her petals like obedient little mice in a maze. Was this part of Rachel’s plan? Had she accounted for everything since meeting them in that boat?
Red’s voice rumbled in her chest, breaking her train of thought. “If you keep gripping my vest like that, Black, I might start charging you for the ride.”
Black snorted, loosening her grip but not by much. Yeah? I’ll add it to your tab, she thought since Red couldn’t understand her in this state.
Grace glanced over from the horse, wiping her brow. “Y’all cozy back there? Can ya keep up, wolfy?”
Black adjusted her grip and sighed as Red barked back. “Of course I can! I’m just tired of playing in Rachel’s shadow. Where’s the real fight? I’m getting itchy and I don’t have fleas!”
“You sure?” Grace laughed. “I wasn’t the one who brought it up. Oh? Fancy thing…”
The gilded door loomed ahead as they broke into another opulent room, mostly empty. An imposing mass of gold and sapphire, its surface shifting with intricate djinn runes that pulsed in time with their steps, as if judging them. The weight of its magic physically pressed against them, a hum that resonated through the bones, thick and heavy like molasses.
Grace dismounted with a grunt, her boots landing hard against the marble floor. “Well, if this ain’t the fanciest dead-end I’ve ever seen…” She adjusted her hat, eyeing the inscriptions warily. “Looks like somethin’ Rach would breeze through with a smirk and a wave like, what, you can’t read that? Damn. I’ve never felt more stupid… Wanna blow it up?” she asked with a toothy grin, spinning her gun around her finger—it slipped and clattered to the ground.
The cowgirl’s lips puckered before becoming a tight line, putting her hands on her hips and glaring down at it as if it had wronged her.
“Mmm. Just…mmm. My boot heel, my sleeves, my other boot, and now I can’t even hold a gun… This curse better not be permanent, Boss!”
El Santo dismounted with an effortless grace, his massive frame practically glowing with divine confidence. “Another point of karma on the board! As for this door? Fear not, eh—s-sweetie? Such a hard word… Ho-ho! For no door stands forever before those with resolve!” He clapped Grace on the back, making her stumble slightly and grumble while retrieving her weapon.
“You ain’t the one trippin’ over your own damn feet, feelin’ more useless than a debutante at a barn fire.”
Black didn’t miss the tension in Morgiana’s shoulders as Red put her down, the servant girl’s fingers clenching the enchanted necklace Yasmin had given her to find her husband. The poor girl was holding onto hope like a lifeline.
“It’s pointing ahead. He’s beyond those doors! It looks like a puzzle…requiring a combination of items and glyph patterns.”
Grace sauntered forward, cracking her knuckles and flashing a grin before spinning her revolver’s chamber. “Alright, maybe this is where I’m supposed to shine.”
She aimed, pulled the trigger—
CLICK.
Her eye twitched. “Ain’t no way this keeps happenin’ to me…” She jiggled the revolver in frustration, glaring at it like it had personally betrayed her. “How many times in one day? This ain’t never happened in my life, Rach, you owe me a whole new arsenal now. I swear on Jim’s saddle!”
El Santo chuckled, adjusting his luchador mask. “Perhaps your weapon tests your patience, Señorita. Faith is the key to unlocking true power. I could take a crack at it?” he offered, flexing his impressive muscles.
“I get you could beat me in a game of twister, pal. And yeah? Well, faith ain’t jammed my gun three times!” Grace huffed, shoving it back into her holster. “I ain’t got the time for this.”
Black rolled her eyes, pondering what Rachel would do in this scenario and knocking or politely doing the puzzle didn’t seem to be her style. Jumping off Red’s vest, she took her human form and stepped forward with calculated calm as the princess’ face appeared in it, looking somewhat surprised, then frustrated.
“How… You are the most persistent rats! Abu, they made it past the two guardians. Reactivate the Celestial Gate’s defenses.”
Morgiana’s wavering voice hardened upon seeing the princess again. “My Lord elevated you from a pretty mouthpiece to a gem in your father’s eye. And this is how you repay him?”
“You don’t know anything about me, slave girl,” Layla snarled. “Be purified in the Celestial Trial. I hope you can survive in the great beyond, high above the heavens.”
“Before that unfortunate event, Red, you think you can break it with the defenses down?” Black muttered.
The wolf smirked, flexing her fingers and tapping her ax against her shoulder, claws lightly scraping against the wood. “As a Huntress? No. But I’m sorta the Big Bad Wolf, too. Breaking things is kind of my thing. Oh, I know I can break it. Question is, will I have anything left after with a name like Celestial Gate.”
Black adjusted her glasses, noting the dull, tired look in the wolf girl’s eyes. Something had changed since that weird sleeping episode at the Scarlet Hand’s cabin. “Then I’ll stay behind with you.” She met Red’s gaze evenly. “You break it, I’ll hide us.”
El Santo placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Fear not, Señorita Morgiana. We have strength, and we shall overcome. Have faith. I can tell Rachel is not one who loves to lose. She has made the path, and we have arrived to see it through.”
Red inhaled deeply, puffing it out softly before cracking her neck, eyes glinting gold, before releasing a feral snarl. “Give me some space. I don’t know how big I can get in this place, but it feels…weirdly larger than it looks.”
“Spatial warping,” Black observed as Rachel’s petals circled around her partner. “It seems she truly was pulling all the strings, and we were merely pieces on her board… She will have some explaining to do when this is over.”
Grace, Morgiana, El Santo, and Black instinctively moved to the corner of the vast chamber. The space around Red seemed to bend, the golden runes on the towering doors flickering erratically. The shifting murals along the walls slowed, their once-fluid movements.
Red rolled her shoulders, exhaling a slow, measured breath as her body tensed, the wolf within stirring beneath her skin. Her fingers curled, nails extending into claws as the ambient pressure in the room amplified, clothing pulling in as fur sprouted out.
The petals floating above them—Rachel’s Eldritch power—shrank into pinpricks of crimson light, hovering motionless in the air. The space around Red distorted further, the very air humming with an eerie resonance—the wolf’s growl from beyond a misty veil.
Black adjusted her glasses, her tone calculated yet laced with caution. “The bigger she gets, the more power she can tap into. But the risks scale just as high,” she muttered. “Rachel…somehow accounted for this.” Her eyes flicked to her partner, the wolf’s form already swelling, fur sprouting in waves across her arms as a low reverberation ran through the marble floors.
Layla, watching from the gilded mirrors above the gate, paled, her eyes widening in alarm. “Abu! Complete the final ritual! Now!” she barked, her voice carrying a sharp edge of panic. The distant sound of frantic chanting echoed through the halls beyond, a crescendo of urgency rising with every second.
Black noticed Grace gripping her revolver tighter, her hands trembling; perhaps the power building in her was growing too much. “Ain’t no way…” she muttered under her breath, tipping her hat back. “Rachel just did somethin’...insane for this calamity.”
Red’s transformation escalated, her frame expanding into the massive form of the Big Bad Wolf. The chamber groaned under the pressure of her growing presence, her fur bristling with raw energy, eyes burning with primal hunger. The space warped around her, shadows curling away in fear as her massive silhouette consumed the chamber.
Morgiana pressed against the wall, swallowing hard. “Wow.”
El Santo, unfazed, flexed his fingers, his grin unwavering. “El destino nos ha llevado aquí. We hold the line.”
With a final, earth-shaking snap of bone and sinew, Red’s transformation completed. Her immense figure loomed over the others, nearly scraping the towering ceiling. The air vibrated with the sheer force of her presence, a low, guttural echo pulsing through the chamber like a war drum.
Layla’s face twisted in desperation. “Abu! Finish it!”
Red’s ears flicked forward, and with a snarl that shook the entire chamber, she howled. Space warped and sound tore through the barrier with a single, monstrous resonance that somehow hardly reached them past Rachel’s swirling petals, shattering the Celestial Gate into a cascade of golden shards that dissolved into mist.
As the dust settled, Red stood before the ruined entrance, panting heavily, her eyes locked onto the path beyond. Black exhaled slowly, adjusting her glasses with a sharp nod as the wolf began to revert back into her human frame. She walked forward, arriving just in time for the spatial twisting to cease and to catch her best friend before she fell.
She’d passed out.
You did good, Little Red. You didn’t cause trouble this time and veer off the path, like we always do.
“Doors open,” Grace muttered, flashing a wild grin. “Maybe this time my gun won’t jam. Let’s ride.”
The petals surged forward, beckoning them into the unknown. Without hesitation, the three followed, stepping over the shattered remnants of Layla’s last defense. The Fable Realm’s villains, Ali Baba, and his son were just ahead.
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Comments
Opala
Milky tax: 🐄 Also, I stand firm in that her clothes will be reduced to a cowprint bikini by the end.
Andy
Oh what a fun chapter. I wonder how much Grace's Calamity Bullet shot up after it hit 13 billion. Lol
