This has got to be, hands down, the worst night of my entire life.

  Scampering around the corner of one of the main engineering building hallways on six legs—yes, six—I smashed straight through the glass doors of the exit and began clawing my way up the side of the building. I'd gone full chamelium mode—it was interesting that my transformation would keep going that far. I kind of assumed it would be like a wolf versus werewolf thing, but no. It seemed like I had the chamelium version of a full girl, to wolf girl, to werewolf, to wolf sequence.

  From what I could tell, the only thing missing were the skeletal wings. I had no idea what purpose those served, because it didn't seem like they should be capable of flight. Like, I'm pretty sure just the bone part of a normal wing would be pretty useless without the usual skin flap stretching over it. It didn't help that I was made of literal metal. Aren't bird bones supposed to be thin and hollow? Kind of taking things in the opposite direction here.

  Regardless—I might be missing the wings, but the rest of me had become well and truly inhuman. I didn't think walking on two legs would even be possible anymore—maybe I could walk on the rear four and put the front pair upright, like some kind of freaky centaur. That didn't seem very efficient, though, so there I was, scuttling around like an overgrown fusion between an ant and a lizard. I would admit I was also a bit worried about whether I could transform back. It was a pretty extreme transformation, especially since I probably looked nearly identical to the 'standard' Anathema type.

  Don't worry about that right now, though. We've got bigger, more immediate problems to deal with.

  For instance, I had a pack of Guardians hot on my tail. Hehe. Hot on my tail. I actually had a tail, and one of them had a bunch of fire abilities. He kept trying to lasso me with some kind of stupid fire whip thing. It didn't hurt very much—one, I was an Anathema, two, my entire body was made of metal, and three, I recalled that chameliums were supposed to also have some sort of heat concept. What was annoying was the way it kept tangling around my legs.

  Come on, come on, up we go. If I could get high enough fast enough, I could get out of lasso range—maybe I could even lose them. They were a decent distance behind me when I crashed through the glass doors. Part of my goal with climbing up to the roof was that I could confuse them long enough to slip away.

  I wasn't entirely sure at what point everything went wrong. Probably the moment where you were shaking and panting on the bedroom floor, idiot. Either way, my hunger was back under control, but somewhere along the way, I must have done something that drew too much attention. That's how I ended up pursued by a pack of Tier 2 and even 3 Guardians. I was pretty sure they weren't students, and honestly, I had absolutely no idea where they'd even come from.

  Fortunately, there was only a single Tier 3, and she seemed more interested in teaching the Tier 2s and maintaining damage control than actually killing the cute and pretty little Anathema on a rampage. They were also in contact with the AAG and Civil Guard, which was, in my humble opinion, a very bad thing. I had to admit, they'd done a pretty good job at keeping me away from any nearby dorms, apartments, or just generally more populated areas of the early morning campus.

  That was also unfortunate, because one of my very first plans was to go straight for the sleeping students. Not because I was a hungry Anathema—I was, but that wasn't the reason. Mostly I wanted to get away from these annoying people, and I figured causing panic and chaos in a college dorm would be a good first step.

  Stupid fucking lasso guy!

  I'd clawed my way up to the third floor and almost reached the roof when something coiled around the base of my tail. Damn you! Lasso Guy was Tier 2, so when accounting for the constant difference between nominal Guardian and Anathema tiers, as well as my growing confidence that I was Tier 3, that put us both in the same effective tier. The result was that, despite me still being way fucking stronger, his own superhuman strength was far from negligible. I assumed he was probably a bit above average for his tier, mostly because it would make sense with the annoying lasso ability.

  In the end, it meant that he could still cause me serious inconvenience. The worst incident so far happened a few minutes ago, also outside, when he managed to loop it around a lamppost to form a makeshift pulley. In retrospect, the whole scene was kind of comical, and it probably would have also looked kind of badass to anyone who wasn't me.

  All that being said, he shouldn't have been able to pull me back down to the ground. Even if he found something to brace against, I probably would have simply uprooted it—but unfortunately, the shitty stucco exterior of the engineering complex wasn't made of equally stern stuff. My claws tore off whole chunks of the exterior, and I was sent plummeting backwards down to the ground. Man, I really wish I had functional wings right now.

  Landing didn't really hurt. I was just a bit stunned for a second, but then I rolled myself over and shook myself out like a giant, reptilian dog. The full transformation caused me to grow a good bit bigger than I was when I started—even with my new hexapedal stance, my long, sinuous neck could easily rise to about twice my normal, human height. Even with my neck and tail straight out, I was probably back to around my usual height.

  Alright, where the hell did that annoying asshole go? I whipped my dragon-like head around, searching for any trace of Lasso Guy. It didn't take me long to find him. There was a crushed mess of bones and flesh mashed into the indentation in the grass where I'd just landed. Holy shit. Did I crush him when I fell? That was super hilarious. Talk about instant karma. I guess he should have thought that one through a bit better. It seemed like even a Tier 2 Guardian didn't do too well when you dropped a couple tons of solid metal straight on top of him.

  That was the other thing. I was stupidly heavy now. Sure, my overall form was quite thin and lanky—'sinuous' was a good word for it—but all of those pieces seemed completely solid. I was well and truly made of metal now, as it was no longer just a thin layer that could pass for armor. I was pretty sure I weighed at least as much as the average car or SUV, if not more.

  Also, now that I'd actually managed to kill one of the Guardians chasing me—even if it was a comical accident—I wasn't going to waste the golden opportunity to further drive off the hunger. And also start getting stronger...

  It looked like Lasso Guy had been the first one to catch up to me, since the others were just reaching the ruined exit. The whole chase hadn't actually been going on for very long by this point, and the whole thing was chaotic, which made getting a proper understanding of their main abilities problematic. That being said, I'd seen him use the same fiery whips as a sort of grappling hook or web shooter a few times. Probably got here so fast by yanking himself across the whole ground floor.

  Also, even though he was already dead, he was still super tasty. He was even tastier than the titan I chewed through early on in the incursion a week ago, which made him the tastiest thing I'd eaten so far in my entire life. I lifted my dragon-like maw back out of the depression just as one of the late Lasso Guy's teammates skidded to a stop a few yards ahead of me. I made sure to chew the femur still sticking out of my jaw in a way such that it would sound extra loud and crunchy. Then, I ran a shiny, silver tongue over my dark, gold-trimmed lips. "You hungry? I made sure to save some for the rest of you."

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  I wasn't mocking her and acting like a total sicko just for grins. The whole thing was a calculated tactic, and it seemed to work. Already surprised and horrified by stumbling upon the gruesome death of her teammate and probable friend, she wasn't prepared for an Anathema to talk—let alone try messing with her head. She just stood there frozen, pale and motionless, and that moment of shock and disbelief turned out to be all I needed to strike. Twisting my body, I whipped my tail around and smashed it against the side of her head.

  She evidently wasn't very sturdy, because the force and power of it sent her entire head flying off. Ha! I had my own turn to stand around like an idiot as I admired the sight of it tumbling off into the nearby bushes. The whole thing reminded me way too much of whacking the ball off a golf tee.

  Huh. You know, people always mock golf, but it actually sounds kind of fun. David bucked stereotypes by having no interest in the game, but perhaps I should try it. Anyway. So long, suckers!

  Snagging the now-headless body of Trauma Girl from where it had sprawled out on the ground, I resumed my getaway. No sense in leaving perfectly good food behind. I had only gotten to eat a little bit of Lasso, but Trauma Girl was packaged much more conveniently for takeout.

  For no particular reason other than perhaps spite, I decided to climb up the side of the building again. I angled slightly away from the main entrance, though—mostly, that was to give me a better view of the remaining few members of their team. With half of their numbers down, I was pretty sure they'd call it quits. Also, Mr. Lasso was the only one consistently able to slow me down, and Trauma Girl was the one who seemed to be their main source of persistent damage.

  Come on. Please just wait for backup. I know there's probably already a Civil Guard detachment about to arrive. That was another thing I had to keep in mind, and one which I was really not looking forward to having to deal with. I'm so sorry, near-future Alex. Wishing you the best of luck.

  It looked like I was right—the one remaining Tier 2 and the Tier 3 chaperone didn't look like they were going to continue the pursuit. Miss Chaperone had her hand on the Tier 2 chump's shoulder, clearly enforcing the idea that he should run off after me to get revenge. She was also talking into some kind of radio and doing her best not to look at the crushed remains of Lasso Guy. I wonder who's going to be the first one to find Trauma Girl's head in the bushes? Even if no one cleaned it up tonight, I couldn't imagine it would stay there long. I assumed it would eventually start to smell or something. Gross.

  As I slunk up over the edge of the building roof, I realized I'd made a good decision. The roof of the engineering building would give me a pretty good view of everything nearby—none of the campus buildings were very tall, and this was a wide, taller-than-most complex with a lot of open space around it. My first order of business would be to see if I could spot any Civil Guard, random AAG folks, or miscellaneous emergency people arriving. Step two would depend on step one, but a likely candidate was to see if I could transform back into an innocent little human.

  All my plans went out the window when I realized the roof was already occupied.

  Seeing a bunch of men in tactical gear pointing guns at me damn near made me leap back off the edge of the roof by reflex. Something about the wall of soldiers looked both wrong and oddly familiar, though—and they were just regular guys, none of whom had opened fire. They were all just standing there, almost motionless. It was honestly kind of creepy, and it wasn't helped that I couldn't see any part of their faces. Wait a minute.

  There was also some kind of phone conversation taking place behind them. "I'm telling you, mate, I've got no more idea what's going on that you do. You're right that it's close by, though, 'cause I swear we've got some Guardians tearing straight through the whole Goddamn building—wait, hang on. Mook is trying to show me something."

  Perfectly in sync, several of the armed goons shuffled just a bit over to each side, like a small gap opening between the theater curtains. A bald, friendly faced, engineer looking guy of about forty or fifty stuck his head through. He stared at me for a few seconds, then raised a radio thing to his ear. Kind of similar to Chaperone down below us, I thought.

  "Uh, yeah, you still there? ...Alright, yeah. I think Mook found what's been causing all this shit. There's some kind of freaky Anathema that just climbed up the roof."

  You don't sound very concerned or surprised about that. Really, he just sounded vaguely interested. Flicking out my serpentine tongue, I checked to see if he was a Guardian. He wasn't. He was just a regular guy—but the same couldn't be said for the other guy. Singular—huh. My sense of taste was adamant. There were only two other beings on this roof, discounting the usual background of tiny bugs and microbial life.

  And if that wasn't strange enough, the tactical goon hive mind wasn't a Guardian either. The taste was related, yes, but—not human, and not Guardian, either. Every single one of the armed men was one piece of a single Anathema. I also knew where I remembered them from. These are the same people that shot Katherine during the whole kidnapping and incursion thing. No. Not the same people. The same Anathema.

  Raising one of my front legs, I pointed with a gold-tipped, black metal claw. "You're the Anathema cultists."

  The human guy paused. Whoever he was talking to was probably saying something, but now all of his attention was on me. He looked like he was about to say something, but then one of the hive mind Anathema's bodies leaned down to his ear. Wait. If those armed goons are actually all a single Anathema—it raised some questions about Katherine's necromancy shit, but more importantly, it meant he could also do the tasting thing. I bet he's telling this other guy what he tastes—I wonder if he somehow recognizes me?

  "Oh." Straightening up, the friendly engineer guy stepped out in front of the wall composed of his associate. "Wait, let me speak. I think this whole thing isn't going to turn out wasted—hey. Let me talk. I'm pretty sure we've just stumbled into meeting with another one." There was a brief pause, and I decided to wait patiently—for now. This guy only had a minute more at most before I was going to start launching questions. "I'm talking about another Anathema, mate. One who managed to take control over her seed."

  Taking the radio thing away from his ear, he shook his head at it. From the faint sounds I could hear, whoever was on the other end just kept yapping. Flipping some switch to turn it off, he handed it over to one of the other Anathema's bodies. "Right. Okay, you sound reasonable."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I snarked back. I wasn't sure why, but something about the whole thing made me slightly irritated. Maybe the fact that he ignored me for a bit to finish up with his call?

  Either way, he didn't seem at all put off by my sarcastic tone. If anything, he looked pleased. "Well, I'd generally take issue with characterizing our little organization as a cult, but I suppose you can only ever blame yourself for what you get as a first reaction." Several of the other guy's bodies made the same hand circling gesture, as if urging this guy to get on with it. "Right, well, it doesn't really matter. You can think of us as Anathema cultists, if you'd like, and—begging my pardon, it looks to me like you've got yourself into a bit of a tough spot."

  Taking notes from the self-integrated goon squad, I just motioned him to get on with it using one of my front legs.

  Looking a little awkward, the guy ran a hand through his nonexistent hair. "Right. So, uh, wanna join a cult, I guess?"

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