Published at 28th of October 2025 4:45 am

Chapter tenebrae 13.1

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

Iriko was very sore.

The ache was on her insides, not her outsides. Since crawling into the shelter of the tomb, she had done very little except rest and heal lying in a heap, licking her wounds, slowly digesting the handful of corpses donated by Pheiris zombies. She had filled the time by swapping occasional tight-beam check-ins with Pheiri, and by picking through the cold scraps of several unfinished poems. On the outside she was all better now; she hadnt lost much actual biomass when the Necromancer had screamed at her, the damage had been mostly surface, more cosmetic than structural, more shocking than substantial. Irikos refractive mail was re-knit and newly strengthened with bio-extruded metals. Her bruises and burns were healed up as if they had never happened, the damaged sections recycled and repurposed inside the core of her body. Her belly was full of meat, satisfied for now.

But she was still sore.

At first Iriko was worried the Necromancer had left something behind a virus in Irikos flesh, an intrusive instruction injected into her cells, a biochemical agent which she could not detect. Iriko spent a while rummaging through her own innards, checking for uncontrolled tumours or unexplained growths, making sure all her internal data was uncorrupted, looking for bits of her that were no longer Iriko. But she came up short. She was healthy and well, without any uninvited passengers.

Sitting in the dark, surrounded by the rage of hailstones and the torrent of rain beyond the tomb, Iriko was forced to accept the truth.

What she felt was humiliation.

The emotion ate away at her insides, just as if she had swallowed a toxin customised to corrode her biochemistry. Failure, defeat, retreat it all made her feel so small and useless and wretched.

Iriko was used to running and hiding. That was how she had survived on the edge of the graveworm safe zone for so long. Whenever something bigger and scarier walked out of the wastes beyond the worm, Iriko always burrowed into the dirt or wriggled inside the concrete and metal guts of a building; she turned her refractive mail to mirror the dust and ash of the world, and made herself look like a lump of nothing important. On the previous occasions when this tactic had not worked, Iriko had fled flinging herself down wrecked streets and sliding inside gaps too narrow for the bigger monsters to follow. She was neither too proud to admit that nor ashamed of her methods. She was still alive, wasnt she?

But this time felt different. Pheiri, Elpida, Howl, Victoria, Serin and all the others, even the ones she didnt like! they had all relied on her. They had given her a mission, a special important mission that nobody else could do. Howl had trusted Iriko to catch the Necromancer.

And Iriko had failed. She had been too afraid. She had turned tail and ran away.

Iriko hated this feeling. She was an ugly, useless, stupid failure. Her body was a failure, and her mind was even worse. And this was all Pheiris fault! Pheiri had spent weeks making her feel valued, making her feel smart again, making her feel like her mind was working better, faster, clearer than ever before. Pheiris praise and Pheiris puzzles and the chatter of Pheiris zombies, it all made Iriko feel like she was more than just a hungry mouth.

The old Iriko would never have felt this shame.

Stupid Pheiri. Stupid boy. Should have left her to starve.

Iriko sat with that thought for a few minutes. Then she felt bad about it. She didnt really mean it.

The tomb was not helping, either. Iriko still did not like the tomb, even if the hurricane outside was much more uncomfy.

She was not frightened by the clinging darkness, the chorus of echoing whispers, or the warren of crooked corridors oh no, not frightened, not at all. Iriko was a big girl, not some cringing child, she was too sensible to be afraid of the dark. She simply adjusted her senses, peeling back the shadows with low-light and infra-red, mapping her surroundings with soft pulses of echolocation and the mathematical perfection of predictive terrain algorithms. She tracked hushed zombie voices with an aural matrix unfolded from her back, like a bouquet of quivering flowers, dark red and slathered with sticky mucus.

She was not a scared little girl afraid of walking to the toilet in the middle of the night. She was not! She was big, and clever, and ate nasty zombies for every meal!

But she would have preferred to be cuddled up next to Pheiri. Or even better, squeezed into the narrow gap between the floor and Pheiris underside armour. Pheiri had nothing to fear inside the tomb. Pheiri was brave and bold and brash. But joining him now would require a long and lonely journey through the dark, down into the deepest parts of the tomb.

No, Iriko decided. She was fine up here, even if she was by herself. She was fine. She was not afraid of the journey, just just fine. She was not a little girl cowering under the bed covers, while a storm full of monsters raged outdoors.

But there was a monster in the storm, wasnt there? A real one.

The great whirling typhoon screamed on and on and on, all slashing rain and drumming hailstones and wind howling across the exterior surface of the tomb. Iriko knew there was a monster waiting out there in the wind and the rain. She had heard it earlier, hooting and bellowing, making a terrible old racket, just like monsters were supposed to do. Iriko didnt know what it was; she never did know much about the monsters beyond the graveworm. But she knew what it was doing it had taken advantage of the storm to get close to the graveworm, where easy prey teemed in their hundreds. Now it wanted to crack the tomb open and eat all the zombies inside.

Iriko couldnt blame it for that. A few months ago she would have salivated at that prospect.

Hours crawled by. The monster was outside, the darkness was everywhere, and the sounds within the tomb the ticking and the tocking, the sliding and the slithering, all the terrible slimy slippery slapping was it all really just zombies scurrying around in the corridors?

Iriko tried to distract herself with poetry. First she attempted to compose a poem about her own fear, but she hated the result so much that she destroyed the poem and made herself forget all about it. Then she tried a couple of poems about defeat and humiliation. That just made her angry, she couldnt get a single line out. She extruded a spiked tendril and slammed it against the nearest wall until the anger was all burnt out.

Iriko lapsed into a long silence. She knew she was sulking. She didnt care. She could sulk all she wanted.

Irikos sulk and it was a very long sulk, because she started to feel very silly toward the end of it was eventually interrupted by the distinctive crunchy crack-thoom of a little explosion, far away, deep down in the darkly coiled viscera of the tomb.

That was odd. Were the zombies fighting again?

Iriko exchanged a tight-beam handshake with Pheiri. He acknowledged her with a double-ping and a demand for a full status update; Iriko could have blushed!

all okay okay healed and sealed happy for now big bang bang zombies okay? okay? pheiri okay? okay okay?

Everything was not okay.

Pheiri sent Iriko a hefty data package. Iriko got all interested for a moment before she realised it was mostly just the sort of thing Pheiri found exciting endless reams of data from his sensors. Silly boy! There were also a lot of images of zombies getting overexcited; some of them looked a bit hurt. There was Elpida, and Victoria! There were a bunch of stills of an explosion, but it seemed like quite a small one. Iriko couldnt understand what most of the fuss was about, but she understood that Elpida had gotten hurt, and that was bad.

zombies okay?

The zombies were okay. Nobody was dead. Nbody had gotten eaten. But they were having an emergency.

And Howl had another job for Iriko.

Howls voice unspooled as raw audio inside Irikos body, transmitted down Pheiris tight-beam connection.

Its not a hunt, blob girl, Howl said. Iriko could tell that Howl was in a lot of pain, speaking through clenched teeth. You understand that, right!? Yeah?! These bitches are gonna expect retaliation, theyre gonna be prepped for it, wired to rock the shit out of the first thing that comes after them. All you gotta do is find them, blobbo. Sniff them out. Bloodhound time. But dont fight them. Dont fight them! You got that? Dont fucking fight them. Tell me you understand, come on.

eat eat no eat?

Howl laughed a big hearty cackle, despite the pain. Iriko liked Howls laughter, it was very honest. Iriko could always tell when Howl was speaking through Elpidas mouth, even though Elpida and Howl sounded exactly the same because they were using the same body. Sometimes Elpida and Howl liked to swap back and forth a lot, sometimes even in the middle of a sentence. But this transmission was all Howl, no Elpida at all. Iriko hoped Elpida was alright.

Nah, said Howl. Your appetite aint the problem here. If you catch one of them alone, go for it, fill your boots. You got my blessing. Eat all you like

A second voice broke in Vicky! But nobody else, Victoria said. She sounded rushed. Iriko, please, dont eat anybody else out there in the tomb. You can eat a Deaths Head, but nobody else. You got that?

Another voice said: If she starts eating random zombies, everything the Commander just did will be for nothing. She has to indicate she comprehends. Howl, make her answer.

Pira. Bleh.

Yeah yeah yeah, Howl hissed, then snorted a laugh. She knows that, both of you. She knows! Cool your heads. Iriko, you can eat them if you catch them, sure, go wild, but dont try to fight them. Theyll be ready, for us, for you, for anything, and theyll hurt you real bad if you let them see you. We just need to know where they are. Just get us that. You can do it, blobbo! Go on, girl! You can!

A fourth voice snapped, further from the microphone Kagami, all angry and hot, like Kagami always was. Shes still bleeding on the controls! Victoria! Victoria, Ive got a medical bot who is about to have a fucking tantrum if we dont haul this moron back to the infirmary five minutes ago! Pira, you little rat, you should know better. And Howl! Howl, stand up. Up, right now! Dont make me drag you there. Dont.

Howl laughed. You and whos army, Moon cunt? A pause. Howl grunted. Alright, fair point.

The zombies grumbled and argued a little more. One or two of them stomped off.

Vickys voice returned to the tight-beam uplink. Hey, uh, Iriko. Sorry about that.

sorry sorry

Are you are you apologising?

yes yes

Vicky sighed. Ahhh, dont do that, please. Youve got nothing to apologise for, Iriko. A big thump and a metal creak Vicky sitting down. Look, you dont have to do any of what Howl just said. Shes not in her right mind at the moment, shes hopped up on pain and and victory, I guess. You dont have to follow her orders, nobody is going to be upset if you dont. Nobodys going to be disappointed with you, or anything like that. Just only if you feel like it, tracking down the Deaths Heads might help. Hell, any intel you can gather on the inside of the tomb would help us right now, even if you just map some spaces. But you dont have to, Iriko. I know you dont like the tomb. You can just sit tight. Weve weve got this under control.

victoria sad and sad?

A little laugh. Sad? No. Stressed, absolutely. Look, Iriko, I gotta go. We gotta go help, uh, deal with this. I dont know if anybody is gonna be at the comms station for a little while. Maybe Amina or something. But hey, anything you send us, Pheiri will see it, and hell pass it onto us. Seeya later, Iriko. Stay safe up there, kiddo.

bye bye bye

Later.

Pira spoke, almost beyond microphone range: If she starts preying on easy kills, we cant let her

The audio feed ended.

Pheiri sent Iriko a schedule for regular check-in broadcasts, then followed up with a geometric puzzle for Iriko to solve. Iriko ignored the puzzle and shrugged off the tight-beam. She liked being patted on the head, but she didnt deserve it right then.

Iriko sat in the dark, listening to the storm.

She composed a poem.

fear is nothing to

fear without the sting of pain.

and fear can fear too

Iriko pulled herself together. She tightened her musculature, darkened the scales of her refractive mail to a light-drinking black, and flowered open a dozen sets of sensory apparatus, pulsing and throbbing in the cold static beneath the hurricane.

Iriko slipped off into the tangle of the tomb.

At first she kept the fear in check by thinking about Pheiri and his zombies. Pheiri was relying on her to do something he could not explore all these twisty little passages and narrow gaps and secret spaces. Elpida, Howl, Victoria, all the others, they couldnt do this either! Iriko was important. Iriko was useful. Iriko was more than just a mouth, more than a stomach, more than the sum of her hunger. She could help!

The corridors and passages and chambers and halls and promenades and galleries and alleyways and secret back routes of the tomb were all pitch dark. Iriko had to ignite pinpricks of bioluminescence inside her own sensors, just to create enough light to enhance. Her every movement sent echoing sighs spiralling off down the ossified sinuses all around, forcing Iriko to pump out more mucus with which to reduce her friction, and to rely on suction-cup tentacles to pull herself along the ceilings. For zombies down on the floors the tomb was complex enough already, but for Iriko the vertical passageways and narrow gaps and profusion of strange angles made her mind ache. Pheiris clever geometric puzzles had given her just enough understanding to know that she did not understand anything.

But she kept going. She had to keep going. She had to help!

Iriko squeezed herself down narrow passages too cramped for any zombie. She wormed her bulk up through apertures full of machinery and circuits and sleeping electricity. She slithered into vast dark rooms in the heart of the tomb, filled with luminous machinery and the whirring of secret mechanical thoughts. She climbed the sluice-pipes which had carried the massive quantities of raw blue required to resurrect zombies, all empty and dry now. She wriggled into the gaps between the walls, where the tiny cogs and gears and wheels moved in silent concert, playing a game Iriko could not comprehend. She ventured into the mouths of corridors lined with big guns and found they were still alive, still awake, still angry, warding her off with the promise of a warning shot if she advanced any further.

She stayed away from the outer walls now, away from the howling voice of the storm, away from the risk of any windows; the monster outdoors was waiting for prey, waiting for the right moment to crack this shell open and scoop out any tasty morsels it could spy. Iriko knew she was quite the snack. She did not want to tempt a predator.

She passed huddled zombies and whispered arguments, slid beneath the greased motion of great pistons, and past corridors filled with traps to skewer any unwary little revenant.

After an hour of searching and slumping and sniffing for Deaths Heads, Iriko was so deep in the tomb that the static haze of rain and hail was almost cosy.

She was also hopelessly lost.

Iriko had done her best to compile a mental map of the areas through which she had passed, but when she consulted that map and attempted to retrace her steps, she found her path was a infinitesimally thin lifeline dipped deep into a sea of black. The way she had come was so nrrow like a fishing line which might snap if she grasped it too tightly. She knew the route by which she could return to the chamber where she had started, but she quailed at her own insignificance, compared with the ocean of the tomb.

Suddenly all the passages before her seemed so much tighter and darker, choked with shadows. Iriko might get trapped! How had she ever squeezed herself down those corridors only moments before?

The walls were closing in. The darkness would drown her. The weight she was under a mountain! Under miles of ground! She would be crushed into paste and bone fragments, legs trapped beneath rock, lungs pinned by

But no, no, Iriko didnt have legs or lungs anymore. What was she afraid of? She had been underground earlier, when she had chased the Necromancer, and she had conquered her fear then, hadnt she? She had swam through the rock like water, she had been on a mission, an important mission, she had been unstoppable!

And now she was a scared little girl, all alone in a dark corridor.

Perhaps the outside world had stopped existing, perhaps all the planet had become this endless dark warren, and Iriko would be trapped here forever, until she starved to death, by herself. Down in the dark, everyone else dead, screaming for help until her mouth was dry and her tears had stopped and only the cold rock was left for her to embrace.

Iriko stopped. Iriko climbed the nearest wall and hugged the ceiling and crammed herself into an upper corner.

She wanted to scream and sob. She wanted to call out for help; she did, casting tight-beam comms out to Pheiri. But there was no reply. Iriko was too deep, behind too many walls of black tomb-metal, her signals lost in the labyrinth. All Pheiris bravery could not reach her, not here, not down in the dark.

For a long time Iriko managed to do her best she stayed very still and very quiet. She made the scales of her armour so dark that not even a big scary zombie with lots of metal parts could see her. She compacted her flesh to maximum density, making herself as small as possible. She rammed spikes of bone into the metal of the tomb, anchoring herself in place, though the black tomb metal was very hard and very tough and she could not burn through it with acid. She stopped breathing and allowed many of her internal processes to lapse. She almost stopped thinking, turning her thoughts inward to focus on one of Pheiris little geometric puzzles. She stayed in her corner, beneath the rain and the hail and the howling of the winds beyond the walls.

In time the fear became too much. Iriko let out a little wet sob. Droplets of mucus fell to the floor far below. She sniffed and whined, as if anybody would hear and come to her aid.

A few minutes later, four zombies crept into the chamber.

Iriko went silent. She folded away the bits of herself which had sobbed and whined and sniffed.

The zombies were right below her as they entered the room, peering about with wide eyes, holding their collective breath, hands on each others shoulders and arms. They were nothing special a quartet of half-naked, half-crazed, half-starved scavengers. They had very little meat on their bones; they reeked of sweat and fear and blood and ash. Out in the ruins of the city, Iriko would have eaten these four without a second thought, but she would not have gone out of her way to hunt them down. They possessed no bionics, no nice dense reserves of nanomachines. They were not worth the bother of a chase.

Theres nobody here, hissed one of the zombies tall and willowy, black-haired, with mottled red skin like a pretty lizard. It was nothing. This place plays tricks with sound, could have come from the other side of the pyramid for all we know.

Can we, like, sit down now? said a second zombie, pale and freckled and slender beneath her clothes.

A third zombie spoke scrawny and tiny and twitchy. Nah nah nah nah. This aint far enough, this aint far at all.

The second zombie sighed. Come on, Azzy. Im so tired. Zidras right. Theres nobody here.

Youre such a fucking wet slap, Leeu, said the scrawny one Azzy. Tired is better than dead.

Leeu sighed again. Were already dead, you twat.

The first speaker, the one with mottled red skin Zidra was about to say something. But then the fourth and final zombie detached herself from her companions and strode into the centre of the room. The other three hissed and winced. Zidra reached out as if to restrain her companion, but faltered at the last second.

Fuck, fuck! Azzy spat. Riki! Riki, stop!

Riki walked into the middle of the room and peered in all directions, hands on her hips, chest thrust out. Dark yellow eyes slid over Irikos hiding place. Strong hands raised in a double-fisted gesture. Red hair glinted in Irikos night-vision.

Its safe, said Riki. Her voice was a weird hissing, like shed been recently punched in the throat. Lets stop here.

Who made you fucking leader?! Azzy spat. Theres no leader, we agreed, theres no

Leeu, the freckled girl, whined: Azzy, shut up! Im tired.

Azzy rounded on Leeu and hit her in the chest lightly, just enough to surprise. We said no leader! No leader! No

Zidra the one with the red-mottled lizard-like skin grabbed Azzy by the hair and yanked her back, then hissed in her face. Step off!

Azzy hissed and tutted, yanking her hair free.

Leeu was on the verge of tears. Uh uh I only meant

Zidra reached over to take Leeus shoulder. Its okay. Its okay, for real. We all just have to stop fucking bickering. Got it?

Azzy snorted. Leeu shrugged and swallowed. Zidra sighed through clenched teeth. The leader Riki pointed to a corner, seemingly at random, but not the corner above which Iriko hung.

Lets sit over there, she said. Sit and think a bit.

The four bottom-feeders slouched and scurried over to the corner. Riki spent a few moments running her hands over the walls, searching for secrets. Azzy squatted in a grumpy, pouting, scrawny heap. Zidra ran her tongue over her teeth, then sat directly on the floor, chin in her hands. Leeu lay down on her back, limbs spread out, staring at the ceiling.

Fuck, said Azzy.

Yup, Zidra said. Fuck. Sounds about right.

Anybody got any meat left? Azzy said. Anybody pocket some without saying? Got some stuck between your teeth? Shoved up your arse?

Wish we did, said Leeu.

Fuck.

The zombies lapsed into sullen silence. Iriko grew a single additional auditory matrix and pushed it out through her night-black flesh, in case she was about to miss a whisper. The flower of meat and mucus hung in the air, picking up the tiniest vibrations from below.

Riki finished checking the walls. She turned back to her companions, dusted off her hands, and said: Lets see the gun.

Leeu screwed her eyes shut. Do I gotta?

Yeah. Unless you dropped it. Did you drop it?

Leeu sat up and rummaged in her ragged clothes. She was wearing an oversized flak jacket and a pair of trousers, both of which looked as if they had been looted off a bullet-ridden corpse. She pulled out a long-barrelled handgun and showed it to the others.

Azzy whistled. You werent joking. Way to go, shit head. Love you sometimes.

Zidra crossed her arms and nodded. Nice. Good score.

Riki said, And youre total sure the borg bitch didnt see you take it?

Leeu shook her head. Everybody was looking at the bomb go off. I just thought you know, why the hell not? Dont we deserve some guns too?

Mm, Zidra purred a weird little trilling noise in her chest. Maybe the Telokopolans should be handing out weapons instead of meat. Even things up a bit. Give us a fighting chance.

Mutually assured destruction, Riki muttered.

Eh? Whats that mean?

Riki shrugged. An idea from back when I was alve. Doesnt matter now. Leeu, how many bullets in that thing? How much bang we got?

Leeu fumbled with the pistol for a long moment, unsure how to get the magazine out. Eventually she slid it free and held it up, squinting at the grey metal. Ten no, eleven bullets. Yeah, eleven.

Zidra sighed. Riki sucked on her teeth.

Leeu slid the magazine back into the gun. Yeah, its its not much. Theyre big bullets though. I think.

Azzy snorted. Pity you didnt lift some blue.

Nobody back there has any blue, Riki said. Nobody but the Telokopolans. And they wasnt sharing.

She was, said Zidra. She was sharing a lot, Elpida was. Were all full of it. Literally.

Yeah, said Azzy, but not the blue! Bitch could have given some up, right?

Zidra turned her head to glare at Azzy, then gestured at something on Azzys chest, looking at her as if she was very stupid. Azzy rolled her eyes and snorted. Iriko could not quite see what the disagreement was about she was at the wrong angle, up in her corner. She sprouted two extra eyes and slid them a few feet along the ceiling, but Azzy wasnt wearing anything out of the ordinary, just ragged t-shirts and a pair of torn-up shorts.

Riki said, Alright, so, whos the best shot?

Leeu said, Not me.

Me neither, said Azzy. Guns. Fuck guns. Get me a plasma cutter next time. Industrial style. Go right through one of those power armoured bitches like the side of a shipping container.

Zidra sighed, yet again. I dont think they have plasma cutters here, dumb arse.

You dont even know what that is! Azzy spat back. The highest tech youve ever seen is a fucking water wheel. You eat handfuls of your own dung. You get shat out by the dozen from a hive cunt like some

Zidra leaned toward Azzy, face full of wrath. Azzy tried to scramble back, but Zidra grabbed the front of her clothes.

H-hey, gettoff

I will bite your nose off, you little streak of piss, you

Off! Off! Azzy kicked at Zidras knees. Fucking mutant fuck, bite me

Leeu spoke as if her companions were not about to eat each other; she was staring at the firearm in her hand. What would we use the gun for, anyway?

The fight stopped as quickly as it had broken out; Zidra let go and Azzy pushed herself back, spitting and hissing. Iriko decided they must be really close friends after all. That was nice.

Riki raised her eyebrows. Azzy just stared.

Zidra said: To get some more food?

Leeu chewed her tongue. We could have gotten more food by staying in the chamber.

What? Azzy laughed. After Elpida got her arm blown off?

She won, didnt she? Leeu said.

Riki shook her head. Plenty others was running. We all saw what the Dead-Head freaks wrote on that zombie.

Azzy snapped, You scared?

Yeah, said Riki, standing tall. Arent you?

Leeu said, What did it mean, anyway? Whats a degenerate?

Zidra looked up at the ceiling. Anybody the skull freaks dont like. Anybody they feel like killing. Anybody who makes friends with the Telokopolan lot and their tank. Right?

The zombies fell silent. Azzy swallowed. Zidra kicked at the ground, though there was nothing to kick. Leeu looked pale.

Azzy tugged at her own t-shirt and muttered, Maybe we should get this shit off us.

Zidra shook her head. I like it. Im keeping it.

Azzy said, Telokopolis doesnt exist. Whatever that weird bitch meant, whatever she was talking about, its all dead, like everything else. Everythings dead! Commonwealth, Kingdom, spacemen on Mars, robots in Asic, even the fucking monkeys! Come on, and Im not being a rude cunt this time. Its obvious bullshit. Everythings dead. Were just whats left over.

Maybe, said Zidra. Maybe I dont care.

Riki said, Im keeping it too.

Azzy snorted. Thought you said

Leeu interrupted. We only ran cos I lifted the gun! she complained. We could have stayed!

And gotten stomped by the cyborg you stole from, Zidra said. Yeah, real smart.

Leeu swallowed and slumped her shoulders. She held the gun like it was a punishment.

None of us know how to shoot, Riki said eventually. And we only have eleven bullets. Thats not enough to test with. Maybe we should trade the gun for meat.

None of the four zombies said anything to that; even Iriko knew it was a hopeless suggestion. Trade away a gun and youd get a bullet for your troubles. Anybody capable of obtaining fresh meat would not give up a mouthful for a single pistol and eleven rounds. The weapon was only any use for hunting meat of ones own.

Iriko realised her fear was gone. These four zombies were so much smaller than her, and they didnt fear the dark, tight, enclosing corridors. They werent afraid of getting crushed and pinned and dying alone, miles underground. They were afraid of more obvious things, like starving, or getting in a fight. It had been a long time since Iriko had watched and listened to a group of zombies without eating them.

She rather liked the feeling.

Maybe they could lead her back to Pheiri.

Iriko extended a thick pseudopod toward the floor. She concentrated very hard for several minutes, while the zombies moped about in the opposite corner, muttering about plans they all knew had no hope of coming to fruition. Iriko twisted the pseudopod pinching tight here, puffing up there, smoothing curves and gentle angles, extruding fibres and textures, forming layers of chitin and filaments of bone. She sculpted slender thighs and slim hips and a nice elegant little waist. She made the shoulders fine and delicate and kept the chest modest. She pushed arms out from the sides, long and lithe and clean. She pulled a head upward from between the shoulders, with a heart-shaped face wrapped in smooth, soft, creamy skin. She pressed features into the face pretty dark eyes and long sleek hair. She tried a ponytail, then twin-tails, but in the end she decided that simplicity was best; she left her hair loose, hanging down the back of her perfect little doll.

She finished by wrapping the whole thing in a kimono nothing fancy, just pale pink petals on a pastel background. She couldnt do anything with the feet, sadly, because the doll had no feet, just the end of the pseudopod trailing off into the darkness.

When Iriko was done, she felt disgusted.

This thing she had crafted, was it meant to be herself?

The puppet-pseudopod was ugly and wrong. The hair was like straw and the limbs were like rubber. The skin was the colour of blotchy, mouldy, rotten rice-mash, but she couldnt seem to get it any closer to the soft brown she wanted, the colour she could just about recall from some deep well of melted memory. The eyes were holes punched in starch, full of coal dust and pitch. The teeth were curved and jagged; they wouldnt straighten out no matter how hard she tried. The design on the kimono looked like flesh, not flowers.

Iriko wanted to cry. She hadnt gotten any better at this. She hadnt practised.

But the darkness would hide all her flaws. The shadows of the tomb would now be her ally.

Iriko walked her puppet out of the corner, out of the enclosing dark, toward the four sad little zombies. She used the rear of the pseudopod to simulate the sound of wooden sandals clacking against metal; she didnt want to surprise the four, after all.

The scavenger quartet scrambled to their feet. Riki leapt in front, arms wide, as if trying to protect the others.

Woah, shit! Zidra yelled. What where

Stop, stop! Riki snapped. Stop there!

Where did she come from!? Azzy kept saying, backing up to put herself in the rear. Where did she come from!? Where did she come from!?

Leeu pointed the gun right at the puppets face.

Iriko stopped the puppet, still deep in the shadows. She pulled a smile and raised a and.

Azzy screamed. Riki went pale, mouth hanging open. Zidra went very still. Leeu said, Its a uh one of them disguised

Yes, we know! Azzy screeched. Leeu, shoot it! Shoot! Pull the trigger, you dick head!

I dont think we should! Leeu said. It wont work, right?!

Riki raised her voice. On our left, on the count of three. She reached out without looking, grabbing Zidra and Azzys hands. Leeu was left out, still clutching the pistol in both fists. On three, just run! Maybe it wont understand. One

Iriko realised she had forgotten to grow any organs for speech. She quickly reorganised the insides of the puppet, forming some rudimentary lungs and a vibrating flap for vocal cords. She opened the puppets mouth.

Guns dont work on me, she said via the puppet. The voice was not very good, but she kept talking. But dont worry about that. I can help you eat

Leeu pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Recoil threw her arms upward and sent her staggering back.

The bullet slammed right through the puppets face, blowing apart all of Irikos hard work, splattering her beautiful kimono with crimson gore.

Leeu landed on her backside with a thump. A trickle of smoke rose from the barrel of the gun. The other three zombies froze, staring at the bubbling ruin of the pseudopod-tip.

The biomass loss was negligible; Iriko knew she could slurp up all the flesh and fluids to regain everything shed just shed. One bullet was nothing. It had only done any real damage because shed been trying so hard to maintain the illusion of the puppets face and head.

But these girls, these horrid girls, they werent supposed to treat her like this! They were supposed to say say what? Hello there, lost girl? Do you want to sit in our little circle with us? Do you want to trade the useless gun for a mouthful of meat? They were supposed to accept that Iriko was just like them, just another scared girl, lost in the dark, all alone!

But Iriko knew she was none of those things, not really. She was an ugly mass of protoplasmic flesh, hiding the truth in a dark corner.

This was the curse of her improved cognition under Pheiris tutelage. Iriko knew exactly what these zombies thought of her.

Iriko detached her anchor-spikes, bunched her muscles against the corner, and pounced upon her prey.

At least like this she could make the pain go away. These zombies were only little, they would not be missed. Nobody was here to witness her meal, nobody had to know. Pheiri could not be disappointed in her if he was not aware. Elpida would not be sad if she never found out.

Iriko landed on the floor a few feet in front of the four zombies with a heavy wet splat of meaty mass. All four of them screamed now, scrambling back, wide-eyed with terror. Leeu pulled the trigger of her gun again and again bang! bang! bang! but the bullets pinged harmlessly off Irikos refractive armour. Azzy screamed and screamed and screamed. Riki put her fists up, teeth bared. Zidra, with her strange mottled skin, went still and silent, as if she could blend into the walls. But she was crying big wet tears.

Iriko reared up, ready to slam down on all four girls at once. She would crush these horrid, rude, awful little bullies, digest their bodies, and then forget all about the way they screamed at her

Iriko froze.

Elpidas special symbol was scrawled on the chest of Azzys t-shirt.

It was very crude, drawn with a fingertip dipped in blood, but the symbol was unmistakable a pair of lines, like a tower or a narrow mountain, standing tall against a curve, almost like dawn or the moon or the edge of the world itself. Elpida had explained the meaning of the symbol to Iriko, though Iriko had trouble understanding why it mattered, until Howl had simplified it for her.

The symbol of Telokopolis. The symbol which meant that one day, Iriko would never go hungry again.

All four zombies were wearing it. Iriko had not been able to see it before, relying on low-light vision and infra-red and echolocation. It was daubed on Azzys ragged t-shirt, painted on Zidras shoulder with black, and cut into the fabric of Leeus flack jacket. Riki drawn it on the back of both her fists.

The screaming trailed off, replaced by four pairs of panting lungs. Leeu stopped pulling the trigger she was out of bullets, going click click click. Riki reached out, fumbling for her her companions again.

R-run! one of them squeaked. Iriko couldnt tell which.

The four zombies scrambled away along the wall, then out through the opposite door. Iriko let them go.

When the hurried footsteps had been swallowed by the static of the storm, Iriko slumped to the floor. For several minutes she did nothing. Eventually she reeled the remains of the pseudopod-doll back into her body, reabsorbing her sad attempt at making something pretty. She slurped up the flesh and blood which the bullet had scattered about the chamber.

She wanted to cry. Just as she was about to, a short range radio contact crackled across the surface of her skin.

Good choice.

Iriko bristled with spikes, extended threatening tentacles, and hardened her outer layers.

A tall figure wrapped all in black stepped out of the shadows, from the same direction the four zombies had entered the room. Red eyes glinted with amusement above a metal half-mask. A long rifle was cradled in six pale arms.

Serin!

Iriko did not reply to the radio contact. She blanketed Serin with a rapid-fire series of echolocation pings, then extended several tubes of flesh and hooted as loud as she could in Serins stupid face. She blew the biggest, dirtiest, rudest pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt!!! she could muster.

Serins red eyes twinkled with amusement.

I mean it, Serin broadcast. I wasnt sure which way you would leap. Not that I could or would stop you, either way. But it is a good thing you let those little weeds go. They may grow yet, who knows for certain? Im told thats the point.

Iriko did a big huff, so big that even Serin had to blink.

mock mock laugh laugh haha haha iriko so stupid stupid!

Serin smiled behind her mask. Stupid? No. Far from it. The opposite, even. It takes wisdom to let the weak thrive. Its been a long time since I acknowledged that. Perhaps I have things to learn from you, Iriko.

iriko not stupid?

That is what I said.

Iriko brooded on this for a moment. She considered reaching for Serin and swallowing her whole, but that would make Elpida unhappy and Pheiri wouldnt like it either, so she refrained, though she imagined what it would be like. Crunchy Serin, with all those special bionics, all those nanomachines. Mm.

But Serin had called her smart, yes? That was better than eating.

why here here? serin is too far from pheiri dont want to be far from pheiri take me back take me back lead out out?

Serin hefted her gun and moved her head, looking into the dark passageways which led off from the chamber. I am doing the same thing as you, Iriko. The coh-mander she cannot give the order. I am anticipating her needs. Which is not a thing I ever expected to say. Hmm.

elpida elpida okay? didnt talk to iriko didnt talk at all could only hear howl. howl!

Serins robes rustled, like a sigh. She spoke out loud in her scratchy metal voice, muffled by her mask. You are asking after Elpida?

Iriko waved a pseudopod yes!

Behind Serins mask, her smile faded.

The Coh-mander is indisposed. Serin sighed again, making that odd rustling sound. I know the others told you not to fight. But how would you like to continue where we left off, Iriko? Im going to do what we should have never failed to do in the first place.

do? do? what what what?

Hunting. Hunt the prey which escaped us last time. Death Cult leaders, all of them. And this time theres no Necromancer to foul our shot./p>

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