Becoming Monsters

The delving wives arrived soon after, followed by a fun game of Toss The Regeneration as Honoka and Diane used it alternatively between Banda’s blessings and some painful amateur surgery. Surgery because magical healing doesn’t push the bullets out and just closes around them, so there were screams and bleeding and needle-nose pliers followed by more magical restorations to make both women stable.

“We knew something was wrong the moment I allocated human without any warning,” Padmava explained to Honoka as Banda chanted with glowing hands next to the bed. The Indian woman remained human, Honoka not wanting to test moving Health points around and what it would do to Diane’s weak system. “When Eve got the notice she gained regeneration, we fled to the Floor elevators.”

“This should heal you fully,” Banda said, her hands dimming and leaning back with a tired sigh. “Diane, though, got it much worse, she shouldn’t step out of bed for at least another three days. Georgia is already en route, and I swear I heard Philip actioning a shotgun in the background.”

Honoka nodded, the whole affair draining her completely. The only reason she stayed awake at this point was she allocated every point of Endurance available and four points of Health from Quinn. Magical healing just fast-forwarded the recovery process, knitting the body back together using the body’s resources. Honoka forced two chickens and a dozen eggs down her throat just to keep her levels above drastic, but Diane was on an IV nutrient drip and fed soup whenever she woke enough to eat.

“Bodies are gone, though I salvaged some of the gear before the dungeon absorbed it all.” Miaka poked her head into the room to give her report, her sawed-off shotgun in one hand and the other holding her knife. “I’m going to do a sweep around the Lair to see if they sent a second team.”

“Stay close,” Honoka said, propping herself up and brushing her two wives’ hands trying to keep her down. “I need to take care of a few things. In a couple of hours, we are starting the final assault planning session.” Honoka then left the room and slowly, achingly made her way to the nearest bathroom, locking the door.

Alone, Honoka broke down and cried, sobbing for being forced to take lives. She’d do it again, twice as hard if it meant saving her family, but right there lying on the cold stone, all she felt is the spray of hot blood from a screaming man cut in half by her sword. For however long she cried, she pulled out her phone eventually and called someone who might help.

*ring ring* “Douglass here.”

“Daddy?” Honoka asked, her voice still trembling.”

“Teddy Bear?” He replied with the nickname he used for his little girl. “Are you alright?”

“I...I...there were a bunch of men, they shot at Diane and me, we almost died and I...I...” The vulnerable young woman felt like everything was falling down around her.

“Honoka, are you safe?”

“I killed them! I killed five men!”

The line went quiet, but not for long. “Honoka, I don’t know what happened, but I only need to know two things: are you and your spouses safe, and was it self defense?”

“Diane almost died. We should be fine, but...” Honoka babbled at this point.

“Are you safe?”

Honoka paused at the words. Actually, not so much the words, but the solidness of his tone. Despite everything Honoka might go through, the steadiness of her father brought her back. Taking a shaking breath, the young woman collected her thoughts. “I honestly don’t know, but all of us intend to do what is right instead of what might be safe. I think I’m falling into the middle of something big and evil. It terrifies me.”

The line went quiet again. Honoka imagined the large black man clenching and unclenching his jaw in frustration. “Teddy Bear, I wouldn’t be much of a father if I said I wasn’t worried about you and wanted to wrap you in blankets and give you ice cream and keep you safe forever, but I’m not going to say that. I’m with the Guard and I’ve seen combat. Your brothers both served in the Army and they’ve been in hot zones. Jeffersons don’t stand by and let bad things happen.

“I can tell you it stays with you, those feelings of dirty guilt. Whenever it comes, I think of your mother, of you and the boys. There are good reasons to fight, and it sounds like you’ve found a good reason. There is nothing to feel guilty about fighting and even killing if it is for family, God or country. Anytime you want to talk, you call me, any time.”

As far as pep talks went, it wasn’t perfect, it didn’t suddenly make her problems go away, but it did make Honoka feel better. “Thanks, daddy.”

“It does sound like things are...getting hot and heavy up there.”

“Dad!” Honoka blushed at the deep Southern chuckles coming from the other line.

“Quinn is a chatterbox. Your mother and I receive daily updates, sometimes a bit too much information. Banda called me the other day for advice on running a business. Eve emailed your mother for college application help. Diane also texts regularly and Padmava is trying to arrange a super secret surprise party for your birthday next month. The only one we don’t hear from much is you.”

“I...I’m sorry, I’ll do better.” Honoka still worried about what she needed to do and what she might need to do, but at least her father accepted her. That was all she required. “I’ve gotta go, but I love you.”

“We love you, both of us do.” He hung up. Honoka pushed off the floor, dusting herself as she took a moment to collect her thoughts.

When she opened the door, she found Quinn waiting outside, almost tittering with worried anxiety. The otter girl immediately wrapped her arms around the surprised Honoka before the fragile young woman just accepted it and hugged back.

“I’m so sorry, I still have super ears,” Quinn said quietly, her whiskers tickling Honoka’s neck and face as she talked. “I won’t say anything if’n ya don’t wanna tell the others, but I...”

“It’s fine, not your fault you hear everything.” Honoka gave one last squeeze and kissed a furry cheek before disengaging. “Can you bring everyone into Diane’s room? Time is running out. I can cry into consolatory ice cream later.”

“I think we could all use some ice cream,” Quinn replied, heading off down the hall to gather the troops.

********************

“It is now seven-fifteen. It has been three hours since we were attacked.”

Honoka sat because standing was still a little painful. Everyone was crammed into Diane’s room, and it felt claustrophobic. Most of the space was taken up by Padmava - back in her naga body - holding tightly to Jaya. Diane lay in her bed, pale to the point of translucence, though at least she was awake while propped up on some pillows. Miaka stood near the door, her gun lightly held in one hand and her knees bent slightly as if ready for anything to happen. Banda stood next to Diane’s bed, finishing the latest blessing. Eve and Quinn sat on the floor with some cushions brought in from the common room.

Honoka continued. “They said they kidnapped Aruna. Whether they meant to or not, he would be leverage to make Diane and I behave. Communication can’t happen across the dungeon, they might still be waiting for their team to report back, but I don’t think it is a good idea to assume that. We need to expect the worst. If we want to save anyone, we need to act now. Tonight.”

No one said anything, Padmava holding her daughter tighter and the little girl crying for her brother.

“Not going to sugarcoat here. I will pull up your Harmony menus, and we are spending these points right now. When I pick you, tell me how to spend them, then we’ll move to the next wife. Once you’ve gotten harmonized, Miaka will make sure you are properly outfitted for battle, then we march out of here. Diane will not be joining us.”

The succubus in question tried to protest, but Honoka held up her hand, “That is not a request. You are too injured to move - much less fight - and I will not lose you again. This leaves us with a dilemma: we don’t know if there will be other teams coming. Someone needs to stay behind to protect Diane and Jaya.”

A commotion broke out as everyone wanted to either stay or go, which led to letting a FBB loot sorting app chose for them. Eve got picked, and she may or may not have grumbled some choice profanity. Honoka decided to move past it. Quinn did swat the goblin upside the head, though.

“Stupid Luck score,” Eve muttered. “Might as well let me go first then.”

Honoka nodded and pulled up her Harmony menu. “Already spent a good chunk on your regen and your first ten points to eliminate your negatives, leaving you ten points. Anything from the Race or Rectify you want?”

“Not today. Acid Fluids sounds fun, but what if that means vaginal acid fluids? No more…um, happy mommy time.” Eve winced as Padmava glared in her direction. “The rest of the stuff I don’t have enough points for. My class needs Agility and Health, but I’ve been pumping points into Agility and Dexterity, so put five points in Health and five points into Intelligence.”

Honoka complied and confirmed the choices. The goblin’s red eyes gained a sharp look to them while her breathing eased and slowed. Jumping up, she gave a snarky salute and walked out of the room, Miaka following. Before pulling up Quinn’s menu, Honoka made one last quick look at Eve’s Status to remember what allocations she could make.

“Look, I know there’s some interestin’ Races I can become, but I don’t know if’n I’ll lose the awesome bonus Attribute thingy. For today, let’s just use me for Attribute storage.”

Honoka licked her lips, thinking of how out of control this might become. “You sure?”

“Yeah, throw some points on me ‘fore I change my mind.” Quinn did stand up and took off her shirt and shorts, pulling her panties higher onto her hips and loosening the bands on her bra.

It was theorized that twenty points in any Attribute was the pinnacle of human ability before the Change. Olympic gold medalists, beauty pageant queens and the smartest women who ever lived, if they quantified their traits into numbers, would never reach beyond twenty points. Honoka was about to make sure every Attribute on the beastkin was at least twenty points, her most important skill for casting spells, Charisma, over forty. Quinn was about to become a monster:

5 harmony points into Endurance
5 harmony points into Dexterity
7 harmony points into Intelligence
10 harmony points into Wisdom
8 harmony points into Charisma
1 harmony point into Luck
1 harmony point into Perception
3 harmony points into Health

It was...well, it was like she became an entirely different woman. The most outward change came from her Charisma shooting upward by sixteen points. There probably wasn’t a person alive with forty-one points of Charisma, and it was a beauty that defied human comprehension. Her breasts inflated another few inches but didn’t go much further, the System exhibiting a hard cap on breast size from Charisma, apparently. However, their shape became perfectly spherical as her bra strained to keep them confined. Her entire body seemed to gain a flawless symmetry that almost reached past the uncanny valley, it was so perfect. Even her teeth whitened and shifted a little in her mouth. Whether from just Charisma or a combination with her expanded Health, the otter girl’s fur took on a luster that appeared to generate its own light. Altogether, the beautiful young woman suddenly became something sublime, beyond mortal understanding. Other smaller changes made themselves apparent, such as her fingers flexing and cracking, her eyes sharpening then widening in expanded capacity for thought.

“Achoo!”

When Quinn sneezed, it broke the spell and everyone could breathe again. She was still a bit ethereal, but a person can only look so sexy while wiping her nose and itching under a breast.

Honoka tore her gaze away from that hypnotic claw as it slowly scratched, the rippling jiggle of tits bounced on and on and on...Honoka decided to check on the final Status or else she’d never get anything done.

“This is goin’ ta take some gettin’ used ta,” Quinn said as she walked out, lost in thought, every eye enjoying the beauty as her fur shimmered with every move.

“You up for this, Banda?” Honoka asked, switching to the next menu while her head throbbed.

“I guess. There’s plenty I’d want altered about myself, but whatever you think is best.” Banda stood and clopped over to the center of the room, managing to look every bit the gentle giant she presented.

“Forty inches (102 cm) of boobs, got it.”

Banda’s eyes widened, and she raised her hands to stop Honoka when she realized everyone left in the room was laughing (except for Jaya, whose ears were covered a split second before Honoka spoke). Blushing, the holstaur joined the chuckle and Honoka began with some baselines that needed addressing for the large and sexy holstaur. Six points fixed her brittle hoof problem and another two brought her Dexterity up from the negatives.

The other thirty-two points Honoka wasn’t sure how to spend. Banda was possibly the most reliable wife all around, it was difficult to pick just one thing. On the one hand, her milk income gave their coffers a much-needed injection this last week. Yet as she flooded the market, they’d lowered their prices to more reasonable rates or else risk losing customers. A boost in her lactation, such as increasing production, nutrition, adding healing properties to her milk or even allowing her to change the taste would greatly benefit the family long term.

Her Attributes - precisely her size and Strength - saved lives on multiple occasions. Increasing those would pay off as soon as later today. However, Diane and maybe even Honoka herself might not be alive right now if it wasn’t for her Cleric blessings and her level six Class Feature, Selfless Healing, which allowed Banda to trade her own HP with the injured woman on the receiving end, meaning more Health might be the right option.

The choices were tough. In the end, Honoka picked the Healing Milk for twelve points, four points in Strength, three points in Endurance, eight points in Agility and five points in Health. The Agility was because Honoka remembered how hard it was to move around with so much muscle.

Banda’s changes weren’t as breathtaking as Quinn’s, but they were more surprising. It was late in the day, her red and white checkered shirt already straining its buttons from enlarged and unmilked tits. When her muscles grew in size, those buttons popped right off when her back and chest muscles expanded, followed closely by the short sleeves splitting from her thickening biceps and deltoids. At the same time, her hips and especially her thighs burst her jean shorts. Mindful of Jaya, the bashful holstaur covered herself with her arms and quickly left the room.

“Get a milking in before we leave, ok?” Honoka yelled after, checking Banda’s changed Status to keep current.

“I’ve said before, Endurance is all I need.” Padmava had covered Jaya’s eyes, but she removed her hands when the holstaur left.

“I think the camouflage scales for twenty would come in handy, ditto to the age regression for three and increased venom for seven,” Honoka suggested, already adding up the points. “Then take six points in Perception and two points in Agility to eliminate the negatives. That leaves eleven points for Endurance, unless you still want those pink scales.”

Jaya looked up at her mother pleadingly, but Padmava flicked her tongue downward and gave Honoka a wifey look. “That sounds good, though let’s save the paint job for some other time.”

Confirming the menu, Honoka watched the subtle changes of someone growing younger. Her waist tightened slightly under her sari while her breasts didn’t so much get larger as they jostled a little, likely firming up in the ligaments. Her face smoothed a little, and her eyes gained a more vibrant color, but a lot of the rest of it was lost when the naga shivered and shook, probably from the energy boost of so much Endurance.

“After a certain age, you grow used to little pains that come with time,” Padmava commented as she flexed the fingers of her lower hands. “Don’t even notice them until they’re gone.” Gathering Jaya, they left the room. Honoka made her Status check with minimum eye-twitching.

“You are getting a flat ten to Health, no arguments,” Honoka said as she moved over to the bed and took Diane’s clammy hand and got into the Harmony menu. “Then I’m fixing your womb for twenty-five points because when I get back, we are having a child. Anything else you want with your last four points?”

The succubus couldn’t help herself, she wept with no way to stop. Wiping her eyes, she grew irritated as she adjusted her contacts. “Is it ok if I get it in Perception?” she asked, hiccuping while she laughed and cried at the same time.

“As you wish,” Honoka replied, gently helping with the tears in her face and inputting the points.

Diane’s changes were imperceptible, though she did remove her contacts and toss them aside. She also took Honoka’s hand. Together, they felt her warm abdomen under the blankets. For a moment, they sat there, then Honoka leaned in, tenderly kissed her wife, and whispered in her ear.

“That day, Diane was amazed to discover that when Honoka was saying As you wish, what she meant was, I love you.”

With a bit of mischief in her eyes, the succubus replied in kind. “Have fun storming the castle.”

Honoka laughed, getting up and walking out of the room as she checked the final Status.

What Honoka missed was the faintest of whispers as Diane finished the line:

“It would take a miracle.”

********************

While the destruction of her old gi made Honoka sad, it was never going to be her delving gear. For one thing, too many allocations required her legs remain free. They commissioned a set of armor that would work with her particular needs, the most practical solution something like a roman cingulum, or skirt made of metal and kevlar weave that reached almost to her knees and sported a few slats of metal over the top, a sturdy black jockstrap her underwear. Her shirt needed both protection and flexibility, but Miaka’s arachne friend apparently relished a challenge. The solution was something that fit like workout lycra but was three times as thick and made of some tough stuff, the spider woman gleefully hanging it on a wall and firing a handgun at it, the bullet not even moving a thread out of place. The coloring couldn’t be helped, a flecked charcoal gray though the arachne insisted she was working on a way to fix that. The form was a sleeveless turtleneck with more empty space under Honoka’s pits to account for four-arm allocations. Some strapped armor on her upper and lower arms kept the rest of her body covered. Her helmet was also a more modern military style but the plastic clips were quick release. Her outfit remained mostly the same downward, shin guards slanting to overlap the knees while her feet wore sandals because they couldn’t think of a better footwear solution. Her sword and gun were at her belt.

Everyone else appeared much the same from their practice sessions as they walked out the gate of the complex, with only a few extra pieces. The most noticeable was everyone’s belts were loaded down with ammo, one of those minor things no one really thinks about until you needed to reload. Banda and Quinn looked uncomfortable, both women lacking enough time to shop for new garments that fit their forms, Banda’s toga making up for the increased need of fabric up top by raising the skirt higher, each step flashing the people in the street and garnering some mooing catcalls to the mortification of the shy holstaur. Quinn eventually decided to flaunt it, shirtless and her string bikini tightly straining to keep her current moneymakers decent even as she moved with a jostle and a jiggle and a few little shakes here and there. One Lair inhabitant, a brawny lion man, asked for her number, but the otter girl let him off easy with a peck on the cheek and said she was married. The final piece of extra equipment was a valuable artifact that used to belong to Arun Nair: a bag of extradimensional space. It looked innocent enough, like a large fanny-pack around Padmava’s waist, but it held all their dwindled potion supply, extra ammo and equipment and a large assortment of things they weren’t even sure they would need but would be hurting if they required something and didn’t bring it.

The walk to the Floor elevators took about forty-five minutes through the streets of the Dump district and then a short trail midst hot and humid jungle. It was Wednesday evening but the dungeon doesn’t sleep, so they stepped in line and paid the bored clerk the fee. Anyone might trek down the dungeon level by level, the stairs to the fourth floor a few miles left of the elevators, but even if a group was armored and high level, the time spent just walking would eat up days and weeks. Thus the elevators were dug and few delvers bothered using anything else.

The space put aside for the elevators was huge, each elevator an open cargo affair and able to hold hundreds of people each. There were about fifty of these things. The entire area was busy with delvers getting on, getting off, talking and mostly the loud din of large hoists moving up or down.

“Usually, the lifts only go down in increments of ten Floors,” Miaka explained as they queued in front of a giant yellow 126 that someone vandalized a red spray-painted skull and crossbones next to, “but Floor 126 is too profitable to leave alone. The magma there is a magical alloy of iron that makes some of the highest quality steel in the world without any need for a refinery. Add in the fact that so long as you stay away from the Bone Castle, the entire level is devoid of hostile mobs. Essentially it means there is an unlimited source of thaumian metal and all a person needs to do is grab it; lots of delvers head to the farms down there to make easy money.”

“Also easy to hide a guild’s secret base,” Quinn commented quietly, Honoka barely hearing her. “Could just tell people you’re delving for iron an’ nobody asks questions.”

The elevator came back up and dozens of dirty and tired delvers shuffled off before the waiting crowd packed themselves tightly inside. Most of the car gave Padmava’s dangerous armored snake body some space, people more likely to press uncomfortably against another human than dark purple scales. Surrounded by her wives and Miaka, Honoka relaxed from her social anxiety and pulled up her Status while the elevator descended downward.

While the black woman was excited and thrilled to finally grow, there remained a niggling thought in the back of her head, wondering if it would ever stop. In ten years, would Honoka find herself towering over everyone she loves, a thousand feet (305 m) tall with tits the size of warehouses and a cock the height of a skyscraper? It sounded fantastic but also very lonely. Shrugging that off, she focused on her Class Feature, Forging Of Mjölnir. She picked it because she felt it might give her some kind of attack power, but no matter how she tried to activate it, there was nothing. Maybe it meant she now ejaculated lightning and queefed thunder. The choice she passed on the other day was called Vǫlur’s Seiðr. While Honoka possessed a lot of knowledge on Norse mythology, she’d still booted up her computer and tracked down the meaning of both words.

Vǫlur was Old Norse for the more modern Icelandic word völva. It referred to a shamanic priestess or seeress, although the actual word meant wand carrier or carrier of a magic staff. Didn’t take many rotations of the hamster wheel in Honoka’s head to connect those dots. Seiðr was a form of magic that dealt with seeing the past and future, so maybe Honoka would gain some spells, though seiðr magic was most closely linked with Freyja, goddess of - among other things - sex. In the end, it didn’t matter. None of her Class Features were named in a way that gave any actual clue to what they did. Gleipnir’s Bindings and the unreadable ******** ******ol were still unacceptable in her opinion and it would either be this or the new one she’d pick up at level twelve.

The ride down didn’t take long, less than an hour. When they reached the entry to the magma caverns, the first impression Honoka gained when she and the guild walked out into the cavern was standing in front of a blast furnace. Not only was it hot - around a hundred and twenty degrees - but a dry wind moved that hot air all around. And it was dry, very different from the wet heat above. Honoka went camping with her family ten years ago in Death Valley and this was it, this was what it was like. Her lips immediately shriveled up and her mouth went dry, but Padmava passed around bottled water and chapstick from her fanny-pack. The other odd thing was how bright the molten metal lit up the floor. Harvardtown was like a rainforest on an overcast day, there was light but it was always dim. The lights at the compound were soft or indirect. All around Floor 126, it was like staring directly into a red sun.

“I already hate it here,” Banda announced, shielding her eyes with a thick hand.

“No matter how much money they offered, always avoided the iron farms,” Miaka said as she flipped off the safety on her shotgun. “Who wants to spend hours down in this heat? Speaking of, everyone weapons hot, we are in the Danger Zone right now.”

They sobered up and did as instructed, Honoka flipping a thumb against the tsuba of her katana and pushing the blade out a little. Quinn took the lead and they walked down a rocky path running towards the center.

Floor 126 was not complicated. The ceiling was around fifty feet (15.2 m) high with low hanging stalactites sometimes blocking the otherwise unobstructed view. Maybe a hundred miles (161 km) in diameter, it was literally flat and not earth-horizon flat, giving the entire place a precise, surreal touch. The ground was black volcanic rock and it shaped more like a plateau rising up out of the lakes and rivers of magma another fifty feet below the rocky terrain. If someone studied the Floor from a top-down view, the center would be an open lake of magma, miles wide. Spreading out like veins in all directions, rivers of hot metal rushed away from the main lake. On closer inspection, they would see a lot of concrete farming buildings with scaffolding and elevators reaching down into the hot liquid metal and working tirelessly to transport the precious ore topside. This network of farms were all interconnected by an intricate railway system, one of these the girls hopping onto. Quinn knew the system and it headed in the proper direction, close to the southern face of the lake.

The trains didn’t care much for safety or comfort, getting them there swiftly without any comfort. The women were the only ones disembarking into an abandoned edge of the lake. In front of them, rising out of the magma itself, stood the Bone Castle. They could see the Castle since they got off the elevator, but the heat waves distorted the structure to appear like a massive white stalagmite. Closer now, they discovered a complicated structure that looked more like a blasphemic and twisty concept of gothic cathedrals. Which was creepy enough, but sharp edges and overlapping designs brought a convoluted appearance that made anyone looking at it for long wonder if the structure twisted in Cyclopean madness. It was also made out of bones of every shape and size. Bone Castle was a horrible sight and every girl there wondered if they could possibly defeat whatever lived inside.

“Honoka, would you allocate me some Perception?”

The black woman glanced over, seeing Padmava unmoving and staring off to the left. Following her gaze, Honoka located the massive Bridge which was the only known entrance into the edifice and the undead gathered all along it. There were giants, dragons, other Races she had no name for, but mostly, there were thousands of humanoid skeletons crammed and waiting for their next target. In the front, standing alone like a gatekeeper, was a skeleton dressed in red robes and holding a staff. Sympathetic, Honoka allocated twenty points to Padmava and waited.

“Starlight,” she whispered, tearing up as she took in the sight of her husband. Despite the heat, the girls silently waited as Padmava held herself and mourned.

“The cave’s over here, down this cliff,” Quinn said, gently putting everyone back on track. The otter girl was not doing well down here, her customarily silky fur damp with sweat. “There’s a path, but it’s really narrow. Slow is better than dead.” Taking her own advice, the otter crouched on all fours and carefully picked her way down.

If Quinn had said nothing, not one of them would have found anything - even searching over the edge - the trail was camouflaged so well. It was a winding switchback and the path was sometimes only a foot wide from the wall. The cave opened thirty feet (9.2 m) down but they all moved very slowly to arrive safely. Banda allocated to her natural Native American human form because she just wouldn’t fit and was carried by Padmava who stuck to the sides of the wall with no trouble slithering inside. Quinn summoned some fireflies the size of softballs and lit the dark corridor as they descended into the volcanic rock.

“Far as I reckon, this tunnel is one of a dozen that go under the lake an’ come up into the basement of the Castle.” Quinn spoke as loud as a flea’s fart. Inside the cavern, silence was so thick the women didn’t want to alert anyone on the other end. “I’m sendin’ some bugs ta make sure, but last time it was empty until a barred door with no handle an’ only a keycard reader. On the other side, though, is a security guard room where two people waited last time.”

The girls nodded, sneaking forward in single file down the narrow corridor. The oppressive heat retreated the further inside they traveled, some of the girls resisting a sigh of relief as they felt AC blowing in their faces. Rocks smoothed down and eventually became the uniform lines of man-made excavation. Three fourths in, Quinn unsummoned her bugs because there were now orderly lights running along the floor.

The door looked impressive, black painted iron with bars six inches (15 cm) thick. They might have been stopped here if this was a regular group of delvers, but the wives prepared for this and let Padmava up to the front. Taking out a large towel, she carefully placed it behind and around where the bolt for the door went into the equally thick jam embedded in the wall. Bending her head down, she shot a small and exact stream of venom through the slit onto the bolt and then took the towel and covered the hissing metal up. She needed to replace the cloth three times, but wrapping the corrosion muffled the noise and with no fanfare or alarm, the door swung silently open on well-oiled hinges.

Quinn and Miaka were up now, the otter girl holding out 3 fingers and displaying a premade map she’d drawn on her phone of the room. The corridor they were in ramped upward for twenty feet (6 m) and then turned sharply to the right. Quinn’s map showed that turn led into another room after ten feet (3 m). With three taps, red dots showed two guards next to the hallway leading out and a third sitting behind a desk in an enclosed room. Pointing at the room guard, the otter gestured she would take care of him, Miaka understanding she had the other two and pulled out her bastons. Nothing like her practice wooden sticks, these dull gray metal rods sported yellow glowing runes embedded into them. When she held those weapons in her hands, they flared up a little brighter. Quinn counted down from five with her hands and then motioned Miaka to go. With a single mighty flap, the owl woman launched herself into the air and flew like a loosed arrow to the top of the corridor, ricocheting off the wall to maintain momentum around the corner, the rest of the girls following close behind.

There was a scream from the closed room in the back, but Honoka and the others witnessed Miaka as she descended like a bird of prey onto a man and woman, her taloned feet tearing them apart before simultaneous blows to both heads splattered brains across the walls.

“I think I got the other one ‘fore she radioed help, but I don’t know,” Quinn said when she opened the door and revealed an older woman in some kind of military uniform, the back of her neck swollen to the size of a basketball and leaking a yellow puss. The girls only caught a glimpse of a fiery mosquito the size of a cat being unsummoned with brimstone as Quinn lifted the woman up and checked a phone on the desk. “Doesn’t look like she did anything, but I’m sure there is a check-in schedule.”

“Remember the drills,” Miaka said, wiping her rods clean and easing the door leading out of the guardroom open slowly, sneaking a peek outside. “This hallway leads to the main junction room, prison is third corridor on the left. The prison has people in it at all times but most of the guards are busy with the captives, so we might even get lucky and pull our people out with no one knowing we were here until we’re already back home.”

Everyone nodded, and Quinn knelt on the ground to do a major summoning. This was the dangerous part of the plan and most probable to get them caught. From all around her tiny flies popped into existence, each one looking typical until someone with better perception saw the eyes were yellow and a faint haze of infernal steam rose off of them. The cloud went through the door and Miaka closed it behind.

“…hallways clear…two guards in prison hallway…” Quinn’s face scrunched and her voice trembled as she tried to concentrate on a thousand different eyes. “…one guard going in cell…other guard leaving…nope…nope…first fifty cells don’t have Aruna…nope…got him, 86D…”

When Quinn slumped to the ground and before anyone attempted to jinx it, the lights in the room flashed, an alarm blaring in the complex.

“Time to move, girls, there is a tub of chocolate chip mint ice cream with my name on it at home.” Honoka drew her sword and threw open the door, realizing stealth had gone and speed was all that remained to survive. Becoming Monsters followed as they prepared for a fight.