Mars Time: 14:23, February 18, 2295

  Main corridor, Section 7-Devadatta, B2, Red Rabbit Warren, Karma Moor

  Fuuka led the way through corridors that twisted like intestines, her Spirit Lantern Hotaru held high. The hexagonal device pulsed with violet energy, its braided handle warm against her palm. Behind her, Jabari kept Oya ready, the Kinetic Crossbow's teal-bronze frame contrasting the lantern's glow.

  Stone ground against stone somewhere deep in the Warren's guts.

  "You hear that?" Jabari asked.

  "Mm. The dungeon shifts." Fuuka's kimono whispered as she paused at an intersection. "These passages realign. Mars remembers when it was hollow."

  Another grinding sound, closer this time. Dust sifted from ceiling cracks, caught in Hotaru's light like falling stars.

  Jabari's hand tightened on his crossbow. "That sound reminds me of the old extraction equipment back in Ndovu Zenith. Big drills that could chew through asteroid cores." He glanced up. "Except those you could shut off."

  "You mean to say that someone is behind these shifting stones."

  "Sounds crazy, right?" He grinned. "Like, someone ruling Xing Hong is behind all this."

  "I've read less probable conspiracy theories on the Extranet." Fuuka checked her Nucleus Watch—'14:23' shown above the two-headed dragon etched into its dial. "We make good time, but..." She gestured at where a passage had been moments ago, now sealed by sliding rock. "… these could trap us if we're not careful."

  They moved forward into a wider corridor. The air changed, thicker, wetter.

  Bodies littered the passage. Human bounty hunters sprawled between Fenris Radi-Mon corpses, the Bone Fiends' chitinous frames cracked open like lobster shells. Blood pooled in the uneven floor, congealing. Some of the wounds were fresh enough that steam still rose from opened arteries.

  "Thermal weapons, alright." Jabari whistled low. "Messy, too."

  "Ara, such cooked meat would have tasted great with proper seasoning." Fuuka knelt beside a fresh corpse: male, maybe thirty, his skull caved in by something with far too much strength.

  She placed her hand on the dead man's chest. His skin was still warm.

  "?ava Grāsaka!"

  The Devavani rolled off her tongue like honey. Hotaru's light intensified, violet energy flowing out to envelop the corpse. The portal within the lantern widened, and something answered her call.

  It came through in pieces—skeletal limbs first, each joint clicking as it pulled itself from between dimensions. A hunched torso emerged, mono-eyed and skeletal, bones tinged violet where they caught her lantern's light. The Corpse Gorger dragged itself into reality and immediately began sniffing the air with predatory interest, its single eye fixed on the carnage around them.

  "Okay, your pet…" Jabari stared. "Exotic. Even by Mars standards."

  Fuuka smiled. "Effective, though. It scouts ahead, takes hits meant for us." She made a gesture and the Gorger loped forward on all fours, bones scraping stone. "Useful, if a bit unsettling to watch."

  Jabari chuckled. "That's the word I'd use."

  They followed the Gorger deeper. The creature paused ahead, a low growl building in what passed for its throat.

  Fuuka raised a hand. Listened.

  Metal striking metal. The whoosh of displaced air. A man's voice, clipped and rough, though rich with masculinity and British accent: "Zori shields me, heathen! That all you got?"

  They entered a chamber that must have been a cargo depot once. More corpses here: recent kills, blood still wet. And across the room, a duel.

  Marcus Thorne's silver white Covenant armor shone like a beacon. He moved with stable footwork, pivoting and blocking as Sigrun pressed him relentlessly, her half-up ponytail swaying as she attacked relentlessly. His Titanium Shield, Bulwark, absorbed blow after blow from her Thermal Axe, though each impact was leaving scorch marks on the shield's surface.

  Sigrun's ballistic beige trench coat was torn, the left shoulder slashed open to reveal damaged blue turtleneck fabric beneath. Her black military pants showed damage too—a tear at the thigh. But she moved unbothered, her one-handed axe blazing quantum-blue in her hands. Each strike forced Marcus back another inch.

  Fuuka's eyes flicked, her psionic senses reaching out. "She won't use many spells. Her Aether's half depleted already."

  Marcus wasn't injured yet, but he was losing ground. His shield work was solid—Fuuka could see the boxing training similar to what one of her ex lovers had. How he maintained his guard, the way he pivoted to redirect Sigrun's momentum.

  But solid wasn't enough against someone two levels higher than even Fuuka.

  "Hey!" Jabari called out. "Three against one isn't sporting, but neither is whatever this is!"

  Both fighters turned.

  Sigrun's ice-blue eyes narrowed, Thermal Axe still blazing in her grip. "More idiots?" Her voice carried that harsh Nordic edge. "Fuck off or die!"

  "Don't trust the Worm Witch!" Marcus shouted, shield still raised.

  "Brother," Jabari raised a hand, Fuuka could tell he was holding back a laugh. "You're not exactly in a position to pick friends."

  "That Proxima woman serves dark powers! Consorting with Radi-Mons and—"

  The ground erupted.

  Bone Fiends burst from beneath broken stone, a dozen of them forming a circle around the chamber. Skuggrs followed, chitinous bodies gleaming wet, green acidic bile already dripping from their mandibles. The air filled with clicking and hissing.

  "Helvete!" Sigrun spat. "We're all prey now."

  On the other side of the chamber, Jabari and Marcus moved without saying another word. Marcus planted himself with Bulwark raised, making a defensive anchor. Jabari circled right, Oya's string making crisp sound as he fired a bolt that took a Fiend through its skull.

  "You move well for a non-believer." Marcus admitted grudgingly.

  "Yeah? Keep that shield up and I'll keep being impressive!" Jabari remarked before raising his Kinetic Crossbow to chant. "B?lae Sika!"

  And the next bolt left Oya wrapped in silver blue light, Lunar psionic power lending it extra punch.

  The two men fell into rhythm, Marcus blocking bile sprays while Jabari picked off Fiends.

  Fuuka watched with amusement before she approached and faced Sigrun, who was now panting. Aside from the exhausted look on her ivory countenance, and more sweat on her body, the Nordling woman did not look much different from when Fuuka had last seen her. It was evident that Marcus had not dished out much damage—as impressively as he had defended himself.

  "What do you want, Fuuka?" Sigrun grinded her teeth.

  "The same thing as every other hunter here, ne?" Fuuka replied. She lifted her Spirit Lantern and twisted its handle. The lantern now floated up as she put the handle back in her kimono. Her Nucleus Watch reported:

  [+Focus activated: Hotaru, Spirit Lantern, Made on Devithar.]

  "Bullshit! I've seen how you spend money at the inn." Sigrun's reply was instant. "You don't need the money. You don't even need to stay on this miserable planet."

  "Perhaps not. But what's stopping me from either?" Fuuka's full lips curved up. The two women had met and clashed on several past competitions going after the same bounties. Sometimes she won, sometimes Sigrun did. It mattered little. The rivalry had always been there since the first day they'd met.

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  Sigrun moved first, Járn coming around in a brutal arc that cleaved through the Corpse Gorger like it was made of paper. Violet blood was spilled onto the sandy floor, the creature's purple-black flesh coming apart.

  "Ara, so hasty." Fuuka drew Kage, the Soma Dagger's amethyst blade glinting with Mirage energy as she gripped it in her right hand. Her Nucleus Watch pinged:

  [+Weapon drawn: Kage, Soma Dagger, Made on Shashan.]

  [Automated Extranet Message: Proxima Centauri products are not eligible for Inner Sol warranty plans. Consider replacing with local alternatives!]

  With Hotaru now floating mid-air at shoulder height, she lifted her free hand to cast the next spell.

  "Vyālī? Prajvala!"

  Serpentine flames erupted around Sigrun, violet fire engulfing her beige coat.

  "I'm amazed you haven't replaced Járn yet." Fuuka gestured at Sigrun's Thermal Axe. "At the same time, you appear to have new Leased Lily clients every season. I wonder if they'll miss you if you perished down here."

  "Not your fucking business!" She scolded, coming forth without fear.

  The ballistic weave held—most of the damage glancing off treated fabric. Sigrun charged through the flames anyway, her resilience letting her tank the spell.

  Járn came down and Fuuka barely got Kage up in time. The impact drove her back, boots scraping stone. Another strike, this one forcing her guard wide. Sigrun's third blow scored a line through Fuuka's kimono, drawing blood along her ribs.

  "Such enthusiasm!" Fuuka touched the wound, fingers coming away red. She smiled. "Do pace yourself, ne?"

  Sigrun pressed forward, Járn a blur of thermal waves. Each strike forced Fuuka to give ground, the sheer power behind Sigrun's attacks overwhelming.

  Across the chamber, bone cracked and bile sizzled. Jabari leaped between targets while Marcus held the line, his shield taking hits that would have shattered a lesser man's arms.

  Fuuka's mind worked fast. Sigrun was stronger, better equipped for close combat. Which meant going for her strengths would be suicide.

  But her weakness was becoming clear to Fuuka now. She raised her free hand again, palm facing Sigrun. "Madhya D???i!"

  The curse left her lips as Sigrun wound up for another devastating strike. Violet energy lanced out from Hotaru.

  Sigrun's axe swing went wide—completely wide. The blade passed a full meter from Fuuka's position.

  "Fuck!" Sigrun staggered, her ice-blue eyes suddenly clouded. "What?"

  Fuuka moved. Two corpses lay nearby, their blood still warm enough, uttering the incantation twice. "?ava Grāsaka! ?ava Grāsaka!"

  The summonings came fast, one after another. Two more Gorgers pulled themselves through Hotaru's portal, bones clicking as they oriented on their target.

  "Mam shvaah. Tam danshayatu! [My dogs. Bite this woman!]" The Worm Witch gestured at Sigrun, grinning, showing her sharp canine teeth.

  Sigrun swung blind, Járn cutting through one Gorger but missing the other entirely. Her movements turned desperate, uncoordinated.

  Fuuka dashed forward while Sigrun fought the Gorgers, her axe cleaving through empty air and Fuuka's hounds alike. Fuuka's two remaining Gorgers lunged, their skeletal frames crashing against Sigrun's guard. One snapped at her legs to draw her low, the other clawing at her trench coat to force her pivot.

  The Nordling woman snarled, Járn flashing as she hacked the first Gorger in half, violet blood spraying across the stone floor. But the second clung on, its bony limbs tangling her momentarily, buying Fuuka precious seconds.

  Her hand dipped beneath her kimono's folds, reaching for that hidden warmth deep within: a secret nest in her body. The Poison Creeper stirred at her call, slithering inside with an intimate glide that sent a shiver through Fuuka's core. It emerged between her thighs, felt but unseen, coiling free with a rush of heat and musky smell, the kimono's silk parting just enough to let it slip into the world without revealing where it came from.

  The Creeper moved fast, silent as a whisper, its sickly green skin glistening like damp moss.

  It struck from behind while Sigrun was busy against the last Gorger, wrapping around her in gentle, binding coils that was more suggestive bondage than restraint—tight, teasing loops. The serpentine body snaked around her wrists first, yanking them behind her back with a firm tug, pinning them there like living cuffs, the green wet skin rubbing against hers through the torn fabric, making her gasp.

  The Creeper wound higher, circling Sigrun's torso in crisscross patterns that cinched her arms tight against her sides, the coils squeezing just enough to lift and accentuate her ample breasts, her breaths coming shorter as the binding hugged her curves, forcing her shoulders to arch and her chest to thrust forward beneath the torn turtleneck.

  Lower still, more loops slithered around her thighs, spreading them apart with insistent pressure, forcing her stance wide and vulnerable, the slick length rubbing against her inner legs in a way that was both restraining and wickedly intimate—trussing her up like a gift wrapped in ropes, her body on display, helpless in the most tempting pose.

  Sigrun bucked hard against the hold, her muscles bulging under the coils as she twisted and thrashed. "Slimy dritt! Get off me!" she cursed, her voice raw, legs kicking out as she tried to stomp the Creeper's tail. She wrenched one arm free for a split second, Járn swinging blindly, but the Creeper tightened its grip, recoiling around her wrist and yanking it back into place with a snap that made her grunt.

  "Hold still for me. It'll be over soon." Fuuka smirked as she held her dagger.

  "You fucking bitch! I'll chop you to pieces!" Sigrun swore again, heaving her body side to side, her half-up ponytail whipping as she fought, sweat beading on her forehead, but the coils only drew snugger, the sickly green length flexing, holding firm.

  "Mm, such language." Fuuka's smile widened as she circled, eyes drinking in every detail. Sigrun bound and straining, the way the coils lifted her breasts, forced her muscular thighs apart, made her entire body arch in that cruelly alluring pose. "But here you are, trussed up like a gift just for me."

  She stepped closer, close enough to feel Sigrun's labored breathing, close enough to catch her scent—sweat and lavender underneath. "Ara, what a waste we're enemies. I would love to have you in my bed and explore every inch of this magnificent body, ne…"

  "What the fuck!?" Sigrun gasped.

  "I could show you pleasures those men of yours never could…" Fuuka's fingers traced along one of the Creeper's coils where it crossed Sigrun's ribcage, following the curve of her body. "Make you feel so good…beg for more…"

  She pulled back, violet eyes gleaming with genuine hunger. "But tonight, I'll settle for letting you go and think of me a little more."

  Fuuka raised her hand, fingers moving in a gentle command. "Vi?a Cumbana, priya. [Be gentle with her, my dear.]" she whispered in Devavā?ī, her voice tender.

  The Creeper's head reared back, then darted to Sigrun's neck, fangs thin as needles piercing flesh just above the turtleneck's collar.

  Sigrun gasped, her body going rigid in the coils. Fuuka watched with fascination as the toxin took hold, noting every detail: the flush spreading across Sigrun's snowy cheeks, those sapphire eyes dilating wide, pupils blown black with chemically-induced arousal.

  "Why do I feel—hot—" The words came out breathless, confused. Horrified, even.

  Fuuka raised her Nucleus Watch, recording every physiological response.

  [Target: Sigrun Fjeld; Libido: 6 → Toxin Active; Heart Rate: Elevated; Body Temperature: Rising]

  High enough. Her libido was just high enough for the toxin's hidden edge to take hold.

  "Such interesting readings. You beautiful specimen."

  "Get the fuck off!" Sigrun's muscles bulged, veins standing out as she powered through the binding. The Creeper's coils strained as Sigrun tore free with a roar then staggered back, Járn blazing in her grip but her movements uncoordinated.

  That tone. Fuuka recognized it. Noted the way her legs trembled, how she couldn't quite meet Fuuka's eyes. The way Sigrun's face twisted, the disgust mixed with unwanted heat.

  She'd seen this reaction before, back on Proxima. Straight women who found themselves responding to another woman's touch, their bodies betraying what their minds rejected.

  How disappointing.

  "You fucking pervert—" Sigrun spat the words. "Stay away from me!"

  She backed toward a side passage and fled, Thermal Axe leaving scorch marks on the walls as she disappeared into darkness.

  Fuuka watched her go, a wry smile playing on her lips. She commanded the Creeper to return with a gesture, feeling it slither back beneath her kimono to its hidden warmth.

  "Ara, such a shame," she murmured, smoothing her silk. The readings had been so promising, the body so responsive.

  She turned back toward where Jabari and Marcus were finishing off the last Radi-Mons, already dismissing Sigrun Fjeld from her immediate calculations.

  The cleanup was quick. Jabari's bolts found Fiend skulls with surgical precision while Marcus's sword opened Skuggr shells. Between the three of them, the last of the creatures fell within minutes.

  "I thank you for the assistance, friend." Marcus said, looking at Jabari, his Yorkshire accent thick with emotion. "But I will not work with this...this witch. She consorts with demons!"

  "Those were Radi-Mon corpses, not demons." Fuuka said calmly. "Though I understand the distinction might be difficult, ne?"

  "Your kind is what's wrong with the Seven Realms. With all of humanity!" Marcus stepped forward, shield raised. "Letting monsters roam our streets, tolerating filth."

  "Hey, now!" Jabari raised both hands, stepping between them. "Nobody's asking you to marry her. But we all want the same thing, right? The Zephyrium and to get out alive. We can kill each other after."

  "You mean to split the bounty if we reach it?" Marcus looked personally offended by this revelation.

  "Pragmatic enough?" Fuuka adjusted her kimono, ignoring the blood still seeping from the cut on her ribs. "Besides, you saw how well we work together. Jabari's cunning, your..." she made a show of considering, "...unwavering faith in standing still with a shield."

  "And Fuuka's abilities. We'd be foolish to throw that away." Jabari gestured at Fuuka.

  Marcus's jaw was tight. His hand tightened on his sword's grip.

  "One quest," he finally said. "We work together for one quest. Then we go our separate ways and may Zori sort us out."

  "That's the spirit. Sort of." Jabari let out a breath. "Jabari, by the way. Better to know names if we're tagging along."

  Fuuka started to respond when something caught her eye. Fresh drag marks in the dust, leading toward a passage half-hidden by shifted stone. Too recent to be from their fight—the dust hadn't settled yet.

  "Someone or something was here," she said, pointing. "During our little dance. They went that way."

  The three of them approached the passage. It was narrow, barely wide enough for Marcus's shoulders. And from deep within came a sound that raised the hair on Fuuka's neck.

  Grinding. But it wasn't something machinery like before. No, this was like meat against meat. Wet. Rhythmic. Purposeful.

  And lots of moaning. Fuuka's sharp hearing could tell. Many men, one woman.

  "Is it just me," Jabari asked, "or does that sound like...an orgy? A monster orgy, if that ever existed."

  Marcus frowned disapprovingly. "Sin, is what it sounds like."

  "This just became interesting, hmm?" Fuuka raised Hotaru higher, its violet light reaching down into darkness as she said softly. "Care to find out together?"

  And deeper in the depths, the moaning went on, becoming louder with each step they took.