Published at 28th of October 2025 4:46 am

Chapter venari 15.2

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

After perhaps an hour of searching the mysterious chamber to which they had been led, Ooni accepted that she and Ilyusha were stuck.

Not trapped stuck. The distinction was important.

It had to be, or else Ooni would go mad.

After Ooni had helped Ilyusha to limp over the threshold, the door of black tomb-metal had flowed shut behind them, sealing them inside. Even if Kuro had figured out how to bypass the automatic gun emplacements in the corridor outside, it seemed that the tomb itself or somebody with equal control of the ferromagnetic substrate had barred Kuros pursuit.

Ooni and Ilyusha had both fallen silent in the sudden still dark, sagging against each other for support, breathing hard though their undead biology didnt need to breathe at all. Ilyusha had tightened her bionic tail around Oonis waist, scraping against the plates of armour carapace, dead weight dragging on Oonis left arm. Ooni had struggled to keep a grip on her submachine gun, and to keep her eyes from misting with tears. Her right shoulder still throbbed with slow waves of pain, stiff with bruising, difficult to move. Her right hand felt like it was on fire inside her carapace gauntlet, raw and bloody and burned.

But she didnt dare lower her weapon, let alone peel the gauntlet off. Ilyusha kept her weapon ready as well heavy shotgun wedged against her hip, aimed out into the shadow-filled nooks and jagged shapes of the chamber.

They listened to the silence, waiting for Kuro to reappear. Surely she would figure out a way into this room, sooner or later?

Minutes trickled by. Sweat ran down Oonis forehead and into her eyes. The roar of the hurricane was muffled beyond so many layers of stone and metal, a distant static hum at the edge of hearing. Ilyushas breath roughened into a heavy wheeze. The pain in Oonis right hand built to a single unending note of fire-bright agony. She pressed her lips together, then bit the inside of her cheeks, to hold back a whimper.

Eventually Ilyusha grunted to clear her throat, then rasped, Bitch aint coming. You think?

Ooni tried to speak, pushing past the pain. I y-yes. Its been I dont know how long, but I dont think she can get in.

Ilyusha let the muzzle of her shotgun droop. She sagged lower, pulling on Oonis waist. Lemme sit. Put me down.

Ooni didnt have the strength to argue. At least away from the door?

Unnh. Whatev.

Ooni helped Ilyusha deeper into the darkened chamber. They staggered and limped between regular rows of blocks made from black glass, with tiny lights winking and stuttering inside. On the walls, silvered screens scrolled with reams of numbers and strings of letters. Pipes and tubes and ducts coiled overhead, vanishing into the ceiling.

A single resurrection coffin faced the door into the chamber, standing upright on one end. The wired-up half-corpse inside it neither moved nor spoke, just stared straight ahead, but Ooni couldnt shake the sensation that it her? it was just an interface was watching. Ilyusha huffed and scowled at it, but her anger quickly trailed off.

They reached what felt like the middle of the room, a junction of two open pathways between the black glass machines, one which ran from the door to the resurrection coffin, and the other which ran the length of the space. Ooni dragged Ilyusha a few more steps, into the left-hand pathway, so she would be out of sight of the door, in case Kuro somehow got past the guns.

She lowered Ilyusha to the floor. Illy sat down hard, eyelids heavy, bionic legs scraping across the metal, shotgun across her lap. Her tail slithered away from Oonis waist and slapped down with an ear-splitting crack. Ooni tried to prop her against one of the black glass blocks, but Ilyusha grumbled and growled, then shoved her away, weak but insistent. Ilyusha lay down on her back, bionic tail coiling limp at her side, legs and arms spread out. She panted softly, lead-coloured eyes staring at the ceiling.

Ilyusha? Ooni whispered. Her voice didnt echo, absorbed by some property of the black glass all around. Please, Ilyusha, please try to stay awake, p-please dont please?

Ooni was afraid that Ilyusha was about to slip into unconsciousness, the same way she had when Ooni had reattached her bionic limbs. Perhaps that final burst of speed and power during the melee with Kuro had depleted some inherent energy in her bionic parts. Ooni had not been able to carry her then, and would be even less capable now. If this chamber proved unsafe, and Ilyusha was out cold, Ooni would not be able to help her.

Ilyusha I-Illy

Illy snorted. She half-rolled her eyes, but couldnt quite get there. Her upper lip curled with disgust. Wont sleep. Cant sleep. Hurt too fuckin much. Lemme lie here. Gotta preserve, in case that bitch cunt shit-eater comes back. She rolled her eyes toward Ooni; they were glassy with exhaustion. Mfine. You need it too. Sit. Aint goin anywhere anyway. Wait for Elpi. Wait for the others. Unnnnh.

Ooni found that instruction almost impossible to follow.

She sat down next to Ilyusha for a while, unlooping the strap of her submachine gun from her right arm and unclipping the busted carapace helmet from her waist. She wasnt sure why she was still carrying the helmet; the forehead was caved in, the visor smashed, the built-in comms uplink trashed. She fiddled with the standalone comms headset again, trying to reconnect to Pheiris uplink, whispering into the mic-bead. She tried the spare for Ilyusha as well. Nothing but static.

Rest was out of the question. Oonis senses were tightened to breaking point, listening to the distant haze of the storm for any sound out of place, any tell-tale click of metal boots, any sign that Kuro had entered the room via some unseen vector. The encounter with the ghost of her long-lost sister still echoed inside Oonis head, too much for her to process while hunted in the dark.

And then there was the voice which had whispered to her the voice which had performed miracles to save her.

But this will burn you. I am sorry, it had said.

Ooni tried her best not to resent that burn, even though it had saved both her and Ilyusha. When that concept had been fed to her, she had thought it was a metaphor, but it had turned out to be terribly real.

The pain in her right hand was so bad that she couldnt think, let alone close her eyes and get comfortable. Sitting still for even a few minutes was torture; as the adrenaline ebbed away, and the silence settled in, and the stiffness in her shoulder steadied into an all-too-familiar throb of deep bruises, the real pain rose higher and higher in a wave that threatened to never break. The bright burning agony in her hand blazed all the hotter as the other flames died away.

She tried to take deep breaths. She raked her dark hair back from her scalp, out of her sweat-soaked face. She pictured Leuca in her mind. None of it helped. The pain kept going and going and going and her hand was going to fall off and melt out from beneath her gauntlet and where was the voice, where was the voice that had spoken to her and promised help but left her with this burning and burning and burning and

She had to get up, move around, occupy herself.

Ooni eased back to her feet and discovered she was shaking all over, covered in cold sweat. She looped her submachine gun over her left shoulder, biting back a sob. She left the helmet on the floor, next to Ilyusha.

Illy Ilyusha, Im just going to ah to explore the room. I promise I wont touch anything. Maybe theres another route we can take, a route away from away from Kuro. Just gotta need to walk around. Think. Stay mobile. Yes.

Ilyusha grunted, eyes half-lidded, gritting her teeth at the ceiling. Ooni prayed to Telokopolis that Illy would stay awake.

Ooni set out on a systeatic exploration of the chamber. It wasnt as large as it had seemed from the shadows, perhaps the same size as the tombs armoury, small enough to cross in a few seconds of brisk walk, large enough for a private conversation without whispers. The ceiling was high, presumably for all the equipment which sprouted from the floor and the pipes which bulged from above. The machines cast deep shadows, studded by tiny winking lights that provided almost no real illumination. Without undead low-light vision, the room would be impossible to navigate, nothing but shadows and glass.

Ooni walked from one end to the other, then back again, then around the perimeter of the space. She made sure to catch sight of Ilyusha on each pass, still sprawled on the floor, half-conscious and staring at the ceiling. She confirmed there were no other ways in or out, no hidden apertures or side-passages.

Ooni tried not to stumble as she walked, clutching her right forearm across her belly with her left hand. Several times she had to pause and take deep, shuddering breaths, or shake her head from side to side, trying to swallow her whimpering. Her right hand burned and burned and burned and burned

She was too afraid to sit back down, too afraid to cry out. If she did that, Ilyusha might notice, and then Ooni would be forced to look at what was happening inside her gauntlet.

She distracted herself with another, less pressing truth. This place reminded her of a resurrection chamber.

The monoliths of black glass, lit from within by tiny lights she had only ever seen their like in one place before, though these ones were fewer in number than the similar machines found in a resurrection chamber. The walls were covered in screens of liquid metal, almost impossible to make out in the shadows; they scrolled through nonsense text, numbers and figures and strings of machine-language, like she had sometimes seen on the screens inside Pheiris cockpit. The ceiling was encrusted with pipes, coils and loops and junctions vanishing into the black metal in a jumble of ducts and tubes just like the giant pipework that delivered the tombs main payload of raw blue nanomachines to the resurrection coffins, to kindle fresh zombies into new flesh.

She stared into several of the black glass blocks, hoping that the lights would reveal some secret meaning. She staggered over to the walls, peering at the little metal screens with their silvery flow, frowning as she tried to pick out even one word in a hundred. She walked back to the door where she and Ilyusha had entered, and found that it didnt have any seams where it met the walls.

Surely she and Ilyusha had not been sent here simply to wait for Kuro to find them again? Surely there was some purpose?

Ooni knew she was being irresponsible. She should stay by Ilyushas side, in case Illy needed help. What if Kuro came through a wall while Ooni was blundering around, choking on half-swallowed sobs of pain? Ooni could handle her firearm with her left hand, but there was no way she could shoot straight, not addled as she was.

Why did her hand burn like this? What had that voice done to her?

Eventually Ooni stumbled to a halt before the only feature of the shadowy room she had not yet investigated the open resurrection coffin which faced the door.

It was the exact same set-up as shed seen inside the gravekeepers chamber. The resurrection coffin was propped up one end, so the interface-corpse inside was almost standing upright, or would have been, if not for the lack of legs. The zombie was just a torso and a head, with long, lank, once-blonde hair stuck to bare shoulders, her flesh wired into the resurrection coffin with pipes and tubes and bundles of fibre, pinned in place with massive spikes beneath her collarbone. She looked middle-aged, with a strange greenish skin colour that Ooni had never seen before. Her eyes were the brown of old rust.

The interface stared straight ahead, unblinking, unbreathing, silent.

Hey, Ooni croaked. Hey. Grave gravekeeper? Did you did you save us? Was that you?

Nothing. If this was an interface, then either it wasnt hooked up, or the gravekeeper didnt care.

Ooni was certain that she and Ilyusha had been led here for a reason by the voice in Oonis head, and by the words of her long-lost sister. If only for refuge, they had been led here for a reason. This could not be a trap, it couldnt, it just couldnt.

Maybe

Maybe it was the pipes!?

Ooni started to shake as that thought took form; saliva gathered in her mouth and threatened to spill down her chin. Her right hand spasmed as she reached for her submachine gun and closed on empty air. She almost cried out at the burning pain deep in her flesh, her raw skin grinding against the unprotected inside of the gauntlet. Shed switched the gun to her left, but she couldnt think.

Ooni staggered back over to Ilyusha. She did her best to form words.

Il Ilyusha. Pipes in the ceiling. Im going to discharge my gun. Shoot them. Maybe maybe theres blue?

Ilyushas eyes were fully open now, wide and grey and cold, her face without expression.

Okay, said Ilyusha.

Ooni stepped away so that she would not risk hitting Ilyusha with a ricochet. She aimed her submachine gun at the ceiling with her left hand, but her aim was shaky and unsteady. She tried to use her right hand to brace the forward grip, but she could barely uncurl her fingers without screaming. She bit back a sob and gritted her teeth, then yanked the trigger. The weapon jumped and kicked, almost leaping from her grip. Bullets slammed against the ceiling, bits of metal rained from the impacts. She sprayed along the pipework, once, then twice, until she was certain shed punched a hole in several of them.

She scurried back to the centre of the room. Ilyusha was sitting up now, cold grey eyes fixed on Ooni, hunched forward over the shotgun flat across her lap. Ooni grabbed her broken helmet and rushed back to where shed shot the ceiling.

She held out the helmet to collect droplets of raw blue. She held it out left, then right. She stumbled forward, to where more of her bullets had struck.

Only shadows pooled in her broken helmet. There was no raw blue in the pipes. There was nothing.

Ooni let out a broken sob. She trudged back to the centre of the room, back to Ilyusha, heaving with thin, reedy, painful breaths. She cast her empty helmet onto the floor, then slumped against the nearest of the black glass blocks. She slid down it until she crumpled into a sitting position, clutching her right arm across her belly. She squeezed her eyes shut and hissed through her teeth.

Unnhhhh unnnnn oh ffffuck it hurts. It hurts. She started to sob. Ahhhh. Ahhh

Ooni trailed off. She couldnt even moan properly.

Shed felt such power only a short while ago. A voice in her head had performed miracles to protect her, and she had accepted the sins of the past which she had visited on a sister she didnt recall. That had made Ooni strong in a way shed never felt before, even when hunted by Kuro, even when cut off and alone and in terrible danger. She was graced by the unparalleled opportunity for salvation and redemption. She was guided by a voice she dared not hope was Telokopolis. She had repelled Kuro, together with Ilyusha, together with a comrade-in-arms more true than a hundred Deaths Heads!

And now she was lost in the dark, wracked by a pain she was too afraid to confront.

T-this this is salvation too she mumbled past her dry tongue. This is is

She couldnt finish that either. Ooni opened her eyes and found the darkness was still there. So was Ilyusha, hunched forward, staring.

Ooni tried to smile, though the pain made it difficult. Was Ilyusha angry at her again, now the immediate danger had passed? Had Ooni done something wrong? Dont know how you could lie there like that, Ooni said. She tried to kep the pain from her voice, but it was hopeless. I-I mean, I mean, I wasnt trying to critique you, just amazes me. Youre amazing. I mean. S-sorry

Ilyusha said nothing for a long moment, then: One learns to cat nap whenever one can.

A cold shiver went down Oonis spine. She blinked to clear her vision, then sat up straighter, staring back at the cyborg imp.

Those words didnt sound anything like Ilyusha.

Ilyusha or the thing that spoke through Ilyusha, with Ilyushas voice said, Dont freak out, you idiot. Im not a Necromancer, or any stupid shit like that. Ilyushas just sleeping right now. Shes in a lot of pain, so I made her go to sleep. But this is a bad situation, so I have to be awake in her place. I dont feel the pain so keenly. Thats all.

Ooni nodded slowly. Her throat was closing up. o-okay. Are you are you the voice that was in my head earlier

Ilyusha tutted. No. I dont know what that was either. But it wasnt me.

Oh. Right then Ooni tried to swallow. She couldnt.

I dont really feel like explaining this to you, said the thing inside Ilyusha. Her voice was flat ice. Her eyes were cupped by the shadows of the chamber, grey pools of liquid lead in the dark, staring at Ooni with dead affect. Not now. Probably never. We me and Illy we were like this before our first death, our real death. Theres two of us in here, and its nothing to do with being a zombie. Tell yourself that Illys crazy if you want, if it makes it easier. Understand?

Ooni tried to calm down, taking slow, deep, steady breaths. If Ilyusha had been a Necromancer all along, well, she had done nothing but serve at Elpidas side, and she had actively helped save Oonis life from Kuro. If she wanted Ooni dead now, all she would need to do is tilt that shotgun in her lap by a few degrees and blast Ooni in the face. She didnt need Necromancer tricks to win.

Ooni nodded, firm and serious, pushing through the pain. Youre my comrade, she said. Her mouth was bone dry. Another daughter of Telokopolis. Whatever whatevers going on inside you.

Ilyusha shrugged, then hissed at the pain in her bionic arms. She flexed her hands, staring down at the red-black bio-polymer. Noyabrina.

S-sorry?

Noyabrina. A name. If you need to call me anything other than Ilyusha.

Oh. Right. Well, t-thank you, Noyabrina.

Noyabrina snorted. She sounded so different to Ilyusha, despite using the same vocal cords and the same mouth. She didnt sound genuinely amused, not even in the brutal, dismissive way that Ilyusha sometimes could. She sounded caustic and corroded.

I should be the one thanking you, she drawled. Her bionic tail curled across the floor, slowly scraping against the metal, toward Oonis thigh. She eased the spiked red tip from within, poked Oonis thigh armour, then withdrew the tip again. But I dont want to.

Ooni frowned, trying to concentrate. This conversation was giving her a foothold against the burning pain in her right hand.

Why? she asked. What

Why thank you? Noyabrina turned her face away from Ooni, staring at one of the black glass blocks. Because you could have walked away and left Ilyusha behind. You could have refused to reattach her limbs. You could have used her as bait. But you didnt. So you deserve to be thanked. She probably will, when shes awake again.

Ooni shook her head. I only did the same thing anybody else should do. Anything else would be betrayal. Of of Elpida, of Telokopolis, of everything.

Noyabrina turned her cold grey eyes back to Ooni. The storm beyond the walls seemed to pick up for a moment, hailstones pounding in thick waves against the distant walls of black metal.

Betrayal, Noyabrina echoed. Youd know a lot about that, wouldnt you?

Even a day earlier, Oonis confidence would have flat-lined under the assault of such words. Ilyusha or Noyabrina had an absolute right to say that, to hold that over her, to call her a traitor. She had been with the Deaths Heads for so long, had imbibed so much of their ideology, she would be paying that debt forever, not just in this resurrection, but in the next and the next and the next, until she was extinguished completely or Telokopolis was restored, or even beyond those unimaginable boundaries of time. She had betrayed Yolanda and Cantrelle, that was true, but before that she had betrayed herself, and the entire human race. Her awareness drifted back to the pain in her right hand, throbbing, burning, the flesh peeling away from the bones. She deserved this. And she would bear it.

Ooni nodded. Yes.

Noyabrina frowned. Hmm?

If Ooni had to gather herself against the pain. She let out a little heave of breath before she could carry on. If Elpida hadnt given me this second chance, then I would be no, I should probably be dead. I betrayed everything. Myself. Humankind. The Gods. All of it. I know.

Noyabrina stared for a long time. The distant static of the storm seemed to resonate with the haze of pain in Oonis right hand. She keened softly through her teeth. She put the rear of her skull against the black glass at her back, rolling it from side to side. She wanted to pull her own arm off

I wont forgive you, said Noyabrina.

Thats okay, said Ooni. I dont think you should.

Noyabrina fell silent for even longer than the first time. Ooni tried to focus on her face, or the edges of the black glass blocks, but her vision was heavy with exhaustion. The pain seemed to rise and rise and rise in one long standing wave, worse every second, yet always the same, always there, burning and melting and

Ilyusha doesnt hate you, Noyabrina said.

Ahh? Ooni managed to focus on her face. Im sorry?

I said Ilyusha doesnt hate you, Noyabrina repeated. Not anymore. She did hate you, because of what you were, what you did. But now youve proven yourself, saved her, made it clear youre not just pretending. Ilyusha is adaptable like that. She had to be. Show her that youre really on her side, and Noyabrina trailed off with a sigh. Even you get that benefit. Even a footsoldier of the eternal enemy can be made to do good. What a shitty joke.

Ooni wiped her eyes, full of cold tears. She nodded and tried to recover her breath. Thats basically what Elpida said.

I dont agree with Elpida, said Noyabrina. I still think she should execute you. Probably Pira too. Ilyusha might not hate you, but I do.

Ooni was speechless for a moment, staring back into those cold grey eyes set in Ilyushas pale face, framed by the jagged shadows of the mysterious chamber. A face from glass and darkness, like a thing from the underworld come to judge her for everything she had done.

Ooni nodded. Thats fair. I think thats fair.

Noyabrina looked away. She wrapped her bionic hands around the shotgun in her lap, but the fingers seemed slow. Her red-black bionic tail curled across the floor, limp and flat.

Ever since you joined us, Noyabrina said, since Elpida brought you and Pira back, I keep asking myself this question. What if, back in life, if one of them

She trailed off. Ooni waited patiently, but Noyabrina didnt continue. She blinked at nothing, at the floor, perhaps at memories.

One of them? Ooni echoed eventually. If the conversation ended then she would have only the pain.

Noyabrina looked up. I dont remember. Im too old, been doing this too long. One of them, one of the people who burned my home. The soldiers, the cannibals, the human-eating jaws of it all. What if one of them had defected? What if one of them had fled and come to join us in the woods? We would have killed him, of course. We would have strung him up somewhere as a warning. Left his body on a road. Cut him up bad, so the others like him would know hed died weeping and shitting himself and and

Ooni swallowed.

Noyabrina recovered with a little shake of her head. But lets say we could prove he was for real. Lets say he proved himself. Just like you. What then? Would I still have wanted him dead? Probably. But would I have killed him myself? No, not so long as he helped us kill others. But Noyabrina frowned oddly, as if confused. But when it was all over and I assume it was over eventually, and we won, or the world would have died long before all this. When it was over, would we have tried him? Would he have been executed? He would have been one of us, right? Like youre one of us now. One of us. Not one of them.

Ooni nodded. She couldnt understand the depths of Noyabrinas Ilyushas memories. But she understood the principle. Thats probably what I deserve.

Its too good for you, Noyabrina said. You fight for us now.

Telokopolis has a place for all, Ooni said. Even me. This is how I can be useful. This is my place.

Noyabrina snorted again, still unamused. And what happens if we win?

Win?

Yeah. Win. Noyabrina raised her cold grey eyes. Ooni felt as if she was pinned to the glass at her back by that gaze. What if Elpidas right? What if we rally thousands of zombies and solve the food problem? What if we find a way to beat Necromancers, and Central, or whatever the fuck it is? What if we recover the bones of Telokopolis, and stuff her soul back into the corpse, or make a new soul, whatever, whichever. What if we do it, Ooni? What if we win?

Sitting in the dark, in the heart of a tomb, beneath the mother of all storms, with her right hand on fire, far from whatever scrap of home she had found in Pheiri, Ooni could not imagine that future.

I what would that even be like? she whispered. I cant

Neither can I, said Noyabrina. But thats not the point. Say we get there. What happens to you then? Can I kill you in your sleep? Will you let me?

Ooni thought about that for a moment. She tried to imagine the clouds parted, but she couldnt recall sunlight. She tried to imagine no more hunger, for anybody, but that seemed impossible.

No. Nothing was impossible. Telokopolis was forever.

If Ive contributed to that? Ooni said slowly. Then I would die happy, I think.

Noyabrina sighed. Yeah. Better than you deserve. She gestured with one black-red bionic hand, claws retracted inside the fingertips. Show me your arm.

E-excuse me?

The arm. Show it. Noyabrinas eyelids seemed to grow heavier. You were hiding it from Ilyusha earlier. You dont have the inner glove, right? Got ruined or damaged or something. Your hands gotten all fucked up by the inside of that suit. Show me the wounds.

Its not

Just fucking show it to me.

Ooni hesitated. She had concealed the wound from Ilyusha, that was true, but it seemed that Noyabrina had not guessed the real reason. Could she be trusted? Ooni decided that didnt matter. Ooni knew she was an instrument now of Telokopolis, of Elpida, of the others. And Noyabrina was one of those she was meant to be an instrument for.

Ooni uncoiled her right forearm from around her belly; her shoulder was stiff as old leather, but that pain barely registered when compared with the burning inside her hand. She straightened out her fingers so she could remove the gauntlet; she failed to strangle the scream in her throat, dissolving into sobs of pain. Noyabrina just watched and waited.

Pulling on the gauntlet drew more sobs of pain from Ooni. The skin on her hand was stuck to the inside of the carapace plates with dried blood, but it seemed much worse than before, as if her flesh itself was peeling away from the bones. She got the glove off, shaking and whimpering.

Her right hand was a nightmare, as if the damage from the flames had time to sink in, to crisp the skin and cook the meat. Her knuckles and the bony parts of her wrist were raw and grazed from chafing against the inside of the gauntlet, without the protection of the inner glove, as expected. The blood had dried, then bled, then dried, then bled, over and over, forming a sticky, half-congealed crust of darkly crystallised crimson. The burned patches stood out on her olive skin, impossible to hide now on her palm and her fingers mostly, as if she had grasped metal hot from a forge. The skin was blackened and peeling, the meat beneath crusted and scorched. The smell of cooked human flesh made her salivate, then gag with disgust. That was her own flesh, the scent of her own meat.

Noyabrina leaned forward. She took Oonis arm in one black-red bionic hand, below the limit of the damage.

Burned, she said. How?

The the voice that was in my head, Ooni said, trying not to sob. When it got me up, when I shot at Kuro, it said this would burn me t-to save us

Noyabrina stared at the grazes and the burns. What do you think it was?

W-what?

The voice in your head. What do you think it was?

Ooni shrugged. The gesture made her right shoulder throb. Noyabrinas grip on her arm was like iron. A a Necromancer. Or Telokopolis. One or the other. Those are the only options. A-and then the ghost led us here, so so A sob of pain and despair broke through her efforts. Were trapped, arent we? Nobody knows where we are, and and and were gonna get left here, and

Hold still, said Noyabrina.

She brought her mouth toward Oonis wounded hand, opening her jaw wide. Ooni screwed her eyes shut and braced for the bite, trying not to cringe away, resisting the urge to kick at Noyabrina, to scream and thrash and wail. She knew this was the most sensible thing to do, but the act still horrified her. This was Deaths Head behaviour, eating the wounds, eating the wounded. But surely Ooni owed this, she owed it to the others, even if she was doing the right thing now. Noyabrina, Ilyusha, they both had an absolute right to her flesh and her

Noyabrina made a gagging sound.

A moment later, Ooni felt a strange cooling sensation spread across the burned skin of her right hand. She opened her eyes.

Noyabrina was drooling a thin stream of pale red saliva onto Oonis hand and wrist, like mucus tainted by a pinkish froth of fresh blood. The saliva stuck like honey, cooled like ice water, and coated Oonis flesh where it fell. Noyabrina made another hacking, coughing sound, and the stream of fluid trickled to a halt. Then she used her other hand to gently smear the reddish goo over Oonis burned, grazed, aching flesh, where it dissolved the crust of blood. The pain did not go away, but the burning sensation was smothered, ebbing down to a throb of damaged flesh.

Ooni took a shuddering breath. H-how

I have bionics on the inside, too, Noyabrina muttered. This part will hurt. Dont flinch.

She extended the claws from her other bionic hand, then used the razor-sharp edges to cut away the blackened flaps of Oonis skin. The pain was sharp, but sudden and short, and soon soothed by the coating of reddish mucus that Noyabrina smoothed into the wounds. Noyabrina held up each flap of skin, offering it to Oonis lips at the end of her crimson claws. Ooni accepted, quickly eating each morsel of herself. Her own cooked flesh tasted of nothing much, just carbonised meat. The red mucus tasted like bloody snot. She could have eaten a hundred times what she had.

When she was done, Ilyusha-Noyabrina let go and sat back. Its just a sealant. Itll harden in a minute or two. Nothing like raw blue. Youre still fucked up.

Ooni nodded. She could already feel the mucus stiffening like a coating of plastic or thin rubber. Her hand didnt burn anymore, though it still hurt very badly, and she could barely move the fingers. Thank you. Thank you, Noyabrina. I dont deserve

Illy will be awake again soon, said Noyabrina. Walking wont be too bad. You and her need to decide how youre going to get out of here.

Ooni lowered her stff hand. Elpida will come for us.

Noyabrina snorted. Thats not what you said a moment ago.

I was the pain was I didnt mean

I agree with the pain, Noyabrina said. Elpidas good, I trust her, but she cant work miracles. You got through on the radio, but so what? You and Illy have to get out of here.

We cant even get the door open again. How?

Find a way. Maybe talk to the corpse-thing over there, maybe itll

A sudden sound churned the air, like gas bubbling up from beneath liquid tar, thick and metallic.

Ooni shot to her feet, submachine gun clattering against her carapace. Noyabrina clawed herself upright as well, clinging to the lip of the nearest black glass block, shotgun clutched in her other hand.

A distant corner of the shadowy room was churning, the metal wall folding inward, the silvery screens deforming under pressure. It was like a mouth puckering inwards, about to eject some indigestible object.

Kuro! Ooni choked, her skin flushing with cold sweat. The walls! Shes coming back through the walls!

Noyabrina was wide-eyed with fear an expression Ooni had never seen on Ilyushas face. Then the fear vanished, the face snarled, and Ilyusha was back.

She swung herself off the black glass block and grabbed Oonis good arm.

Hide! Ilyusha growled. Hide hide hide!

What!? But shell see us anyway, shes got sensors and

Then we fucking ambush her, right up the cunt! Hide us, now! Ilyusha dragged on Oonis arm, pulling her toward the far side of the room, away from the deforming pucker in the wall.

Ooni obeyed, stumbling deeper into the grid of black glass monoliths. She reached the far end and stepped between two blocks, squeezing between the upright layers of solid glass, dragging Ilyusha into the gap behind her. They both crouched in the narrow space. Ilyushas bionic legs were shaking with effort, but she stayed upright, braced against the glass. She pulled her tail in and wrapped it around Oonis waist again. She fingered her shotgun, making sure it was loaded.

Ooni clutched her submachine gun in her left hand, praying that the voice in her head would return. They had wounded Kuro before, but without the miracles that had stripped away her ferrofluid armour layers, Ooni and Ilyusha would be helpless, without

Oh! Ooni almost shot upright. My my glove, and the helmet! I left them out there, shell see

Ilyusha made her claws slide in and out, quick and clean. Shhh! No time. Shut up.

The wet glugging sound rose to a crescendo then burst into several pairs of feet spilling across the distant corner of chamber floor. Several pairs of lungs panted for breath. More than one person? Not Kuro, then. Maybe it was

Somebody swore Fuck. Fuck!

Oonis blood went cold; she knew that voice.

A moment passed. Another voice breathy, raw, but full of concealed power said: We have been delivered from our foes, once again. The messengers words were true, we are favoured.

Ooni almost whimpered. No. No!

Delivered? another voice hissed, spitting sarcasm. Delivered.

We did get away, said another. Ooni closed her eyes, trying not to cry.

We got fucked over, said that second voice again, a voice Ooni had hoped never to hear again, full of tight pressed anger. This shit isnt working like its meant to. We got fucked. Nobody fucks us. Nobody!

We have been delivered from our foes, repeated Yolanda.

Fuck, Cantrelle spat again.

The last people Ooni ever wanted to see. The only people worse than Kuro, because they wouldnt spare her for sport.

The last dregs of the Deaths Heads.

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