Patlabor

Moriji Characters
Salamensho Rex Creature Profile
Lunaito Offer

Chapter 1: Memento

“Land ahoy, nanora!” The familiar call descended from the frigate’s crow’s nest.

It was as beautiful a day as the Ailivian sea ever saw. Emerald waves shimmered under the harsh tropical sun, interrupted by Pygmy Hydras occasionally poking their maws out of the depths. They’d been following the three frigates for a few days now, those scary, bony-looking sea serpents. Hungry, too, based on how they snapped at anything the sailors threw overboard. These Moriji waters harbored equal parts of beauty and danger.

Sam’s gaze abandoned the horizon and shifted to a woman who stood next to him. “We’re nearly there, Lady Ro. Are all your people prepared to disembark nanora?” Sir Sam Morwich was an attentive commander, with little patience for slackness in his soldiers’ duties. He expected the same mindset from other leaders he worked with; it had pulled him through many a hardship.

Rochu was inspecting a small instrument in her hands. A skillfully crafted VT-meter, calibrated specially for this mission. It had two gauges, one with a cotton candy pink bubble, the other with a reddish pink blob. The former was sunk near the bottom of the graduated cylinder, while the latter hovered slightly.

“To get such readings all the way out here... As expected, Mori-type chuubanite is indeed carried on the water’s salt nora, as laid out in that 1103 paper by Sir Sweetapple...” The scientist was laser-focused on her instrument, mumbling away while the commander sighed.

He brought his fist to his mouth and offered a polite cough. “Ahem, Lady Rochu?” She’s a genius in her field, no doubt about it, but being a savant can come with some drawbacks.

Finally, she snapped out of her musings, without an ounce of confusion in her demeanor. “Naaa, we are ready and primed to begin our work, Sir Sam. My students have been preparing for this field research for months now. They won’t disappoint at any point nanora.” In an instant, she’d turned into a different person. From day-dreaming girl hungry for knowledge, to a sharp leader dedicated to the mission. Sam almost got whiplash from the transition, but he was getting used to it.

The breeze blew her pink hair back into her face, prompting her to arrange it behind her ears. She was also a fairly thin woman... If what he heard of Moriji is true, she’ll fit right in on the skeletons’ island. “Good, good nora.” He turned back to their objective, which had grown closer. The city was now clearly visible, with the great volcanic mountains of the isle rising far and high in the background. Dozens of ships of all shapes and sizes were moving about to harbors dotted along the coast, as far as Sam could see on either side.

To his left, towards the North of the city, galleons and Indiamen were coming into extensive docks to be unloaded. Cranes were being worked hard to extract the foreign goods from the hulls, and to fill them back up with the Deadbeat’s exports.

To their right, he saw a portion of one of the Black Fleet’s harbors, mostly surrounded by a high sea wall. Behind it, a forest of ebon masts and sails rose into the sky, near ominously. Smaller battleships were constantly entering and exiting the artificial bay, and in their approach, the three Lunaito ships saw a pair of mind-bogglingly long warships leave port, cutting through the waters like massive obsidian razors.

In front of them, they could see a smaller set of tall quays with three conspicuously empty emplacements prepared for their arrival. Behind the harbormaster’s cabin is the city, Memento, the de facto capital of Moriji. Dark towers built out of massive blocks of black and red stone quarried from the mountains strove towards the heavens. Most had a square base and a layered architecture, with a sloped lacquered wood roofs marking each level. Taller ones stacked over half a dozen such layers. The constructions are gothic and somewhat oppressive, with spiky spires and skeletal decorations jutting out of almost anything that could otherwise be left bare, like scores of spears sticking out of a still standing, invincible warrior. While it doesn’t hold a candle to the admiration and devotion the Himedom’s splendid castles inspire in his heart, this aesthetic did strike some awe into him.

Sam’s boat and its two companions were guided to their destination by a set of tugboats, who helped pull the fine frigates into their assigned slots in the civilian harbor. The Deadbeat dockworkers slung rope with the easy assurance of a trade worked for years. Sam’d heard Deadbeats were poor swimmers, so he was surprised when he saw them leap from dock to ship so unassumingly. ‘Must be getting pretty good pay’, he thought.

Before the gangplank had even been laid down, cranes were swinging over their heads, ready to grab the Lunaitos’ baggages. The Luknight of battle looked behind himself and saw most of his men and Lady Rochu’s academics. In front of him, landside, a tall young man stood at attention, in what he recognizes as the traditional Goddess Faithful garb. He was accompanied by a shorter man. This one was richly dressed, his black silks layered over his gaunt frame bulking him up somewhat. Threads of gold glints in the sun along the edges of the fabric, as does the gold-plated skull mask at his hip. A few other individuals were grouped behind the pair, chatting amongst themselves while looking at the pink knights. The men were bald, and the women crowned with long snow white or platinum hair. Locks and skulls both shine under the beating sun.

This isn’t Sam’s first diplomatic rodeo; there was a reason he was chosen as the leader of this important mission, and it’s not only for his skill at the art of the MonHun. He’d worked with Deadbeats before, stood with Black Fleet sailors before schizo hordes, in the frozen wastes of the Arctic Sea. He wasn’t surprised by the lack of fanfare and parade in the Memento welcoming party. The people of Moriji were subdued in official functions, warm in the personal, and utterly loyal in combat. Being aware of the latter let Sam not be offended where a Luknight less familiar with Deadbeat decorum might have been.

Sir Morwich descended from the ship directly towards the two Deadbeats, with the confident strides of a veteran, and commander of men. The priest stood straight, his hands hidden in long, flowy sleeves, while the richly dressed gentleman kept his hands behind his back. Sam studied the former’s face for an instant, but he let little through; his face was a mask of relaxed, diplomatic gladness.

The emotions hidden by his face got across in his handshake, though. Both men grasped each other’s right forearms and let their firm grips speak of things such as their dedication to the Goddesses and the mission, mutual respect, inner power. The priest spoke first.

“Sir Sam Morwich, correct? Welcome to My Mori’s Island, it’s good to see you arrive in good health. I’m Rushiko, and this is Onyus, Shichichou of Memento’s seventeenth borough.” Rushiko's pale pink eyes shifted from the Luknight to his Deadbeat companion, and he waved towards this Onyus.

The politician was a bit more transparent. “Sir Luknight, our humble city is happy to have you, welcome, welcome! Should you and your brave men and women need anything, my people will take care of you, you are our valued guests.”

Sam nods agreeably before answering: “Praise the Princess nanora, well met, friends. Thank you for your hospitality.” Further formalities were exchanged as Lady Rochu met the Deadbeat officials and the Lunaito teams began to disembark. The buildings were tall, dark and aloof from afar, but from within the city streets, the tavern signs and restaurant terrasses had a certain warmth to them. Onyus wished them all a nice transit through Memento before giving his people some last-minute instructions and rushing back to the city center for some important mayoral function.

---

Three of the Lunaito leaders soon found themselves in front of the borough’s Goddess Faithful shrine. Sam, Sala and Rochu had come to meet the Deadbeat in charge of the operation, while Rosso fulfilled his quartermasterly duties and ensured the Lunaitos were well taken care of in the accommodations provided to them. Rushiko had relaxed a bit in the past hour, and was now grilling Sam on the latest information he had on the LAB’s arctic anti-schizo activities, while Rochu looked attentively at her VT-meter. Its measurement of Mori-type chuubanite had bumped up after their landing, and was now steadily increasing as they approached the shrine.

Sala was more focused on the building itself. It was aesthetically pleasing, being built of the same black stone as much of the rest of the city, but these blocks (each much taller than herself) were engraved with full-wall murals depicting masses of skeletal warriors swarming doomed souls, deathly angels flying over all, scythes bisecting entire crowds of humanity in a single fell swoop. The images were gruesome, but also peaceful and somber, instead of aggressively violent.

Her tactical eye also noted other characteristics. The first two floors were void of any windows or openings besides a single, colossal, and heavy gate. The upper floor extended outwards, giving individuals inside clear shots to any assailants, and the solid stone constructions seemed quite indestructible. It made different sieging assumptions compared to the grand castles familiar to her home, but this was clearly a place designed to be as impregnable as possible.

Thankfully, there would be no need for a siege today. The solid steel doors soundlessly opened inward and the small group entered, with Rushiko in the lead. They closed back up behind them, leaving them in the warm, white light of what looked like whale fat lamps to Sam’s eye. He’d seen them in his time up North. Rushiko let them know their next steps. “The Holy Ghost will be in one of the basement floors, let’s check the ops room first.”

Priests and priestesses warmly welcomed the Lunaitos as they passed them by in the halls, it seemed they were expected. But all stepped aside once Rushiko let them know this “Holy Ghost” individual was expecting them. Rochu felt a small shiver crawl up her spine as they descended the first flight of stairs. The temperature was noticeably lower, compared to the tropical heat of the surface. She glanced at her VT-meter and they were properly immersed in a high chuubanite area now, no doubt about it. Perhaps it was detecting the substance that was stored in the priestesses? Their hair was as bright pink as her own, perhaps with a slightly paler tint to it.

On the third subterranean level, Rushiko led them into a larger room which seemed to be their objective. The walls were lined with filing cabinets and various maps of Moriji locales, and a motley crew of ecclesiastics, civilians, and a few Black Fleet officers were busying themselves over said documents. The ceiling was quite high. A balcony with more bookshelves going around the circumference of the room was found above them.

Sam began scanning the room for whoever they’d come to see when...

Fwoomp! Sam would be lying if he said that he wasn’t a bit surprised by the sudden flash of white fur that had appeared before him, fallen from the heavens. The tricky creature had leaped from the second level, right onto the floor before him. It softened its landing with the long, muscular tail attached to the end of its spine. Rushiko chuckled a bit before admonishing this new person. “Tosklo, how could you do that to our noble guests? How rude.”

Sam finally got to take a better look at this Tosklo. The Luknight wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with furry-tailed little humans, he’d come across Risuners before, but this was a truly unique individual. For one, he had some trouble figuring out if this was male or female, they were sort of androgynously cute. They had two round white ears, perched on the top of their head, and that long, muscled tail of theirs was similarly covered in this short white hair.

A disproportionately vigorous, high-pitched voice rose from the possum-girl as she gave a small bow. “Nice to meet ya, mister Knight. Hope I didn’t spook yall, I’m just excited to finally see those Candy knights I’ve heard so much about.” She bounced over the Sam’s left side. The Luknight was still in a bit of a daze as he absorbed the existence of a new human subspecies and its presence in the cold basement of a Deadbeat shrine.

Tosklo’ tail wrapped around his gauntleted hand and gently pulled it toward her mouth. Was it her culture’s tradition to kiss the hand of a newly introduced person, as a Luknight might do after meeting a fair, noble lady? Sam prided himself on his open-mindedness, so he did not interrupt.

His guess missed the mark, however. Tosklo brought his vambrace to her face and gave the pink-tinted plate a nice, long lick.

“Err, excuse me naa?!” Sam brusquely pulled back his arm, with no resistance from the uncoiling tail that had been holding it. He glared at the girl, who seemed focused on her tastebuds.

“Mmm so that’s what processed Luna-type tastes like, huh? It is very sweet, mmm and this stinging sensation, that must be candification-related irritation...” He noticed now that she was a bit on the thin side, pale, and there were tufts of pink in her hair and fur. Rochu would have guessed she’d been on the island for a few years, based on the Deadbeatification progression.

Ignoring Sala’s suppressed laughs, Sam sighed and elected to let the slight transgression go, after wiping the trail of spit on his surcoat. “Well met, Lady Tosklo. Err, what is your role here nanora?”

The small girl stood up straight and bowed again, though her lazily coiling tail betrayed a certain casualness. “Sir, I am a resident researcher in the bio-chuubanitics department of Memento Semina, specialization in inter-modal vitium interactions. The Goddess Faithful has requested my assistance in the pursuit and analysis of the Salamensho Rex.” A large black beetle wandered lazily from her back to her shoulder, which did not seem to surprise anyone in the room. ‘Just gotta take it in stride, I guess’.

Sam had composed himself again, and a glare had silenced the chuckling Sala. “I see, well, we look forward to working with you, Tosklo. I would advise that you suppress your urges to lick strangers, at least us Luknights nanora. We can be quite protective of our Princess-blessed armor naa.”

The Palkyrie smiled widely and brightly, and offered an “Etto... Bleh!” and a wink as an apology. She followed up with: “Now, I believe you’re here to meet the Holy Ghost, right? She’s in the back, in the m-“

Just as Tosklo pointed to a door on the other side of the room, said door swung outwards. Frigid vapor began flowing out of it and two priestesses strode out.

One had pale pink hair and the standard outfit, though she wore some rubber gloves. The other... Was probably who they’d come to meet. Her more elaborate sleeves and snarling fox Death Mask marked her as a Holy Ghost, and her muscular build marked her as a particularly powerful one. It was an uncommon feature among Deadbeats. She looked like she could crush a helmeted head between her thighs. She said a word to her companion, and immediately strode towards the Lunaitos, her long bright pink hair flowing behind her.

Tosklo saluted her as she neared the group. “Hey Morta! How’s our friend back there doing?”

A small smile appeared on the priestess’ ice cold visage as she let a wide, calloused hand rest on the Palkyrie’s furry head. “Crystal growth has slowed down, but not stopped yet. I see you’ve introduced yourself to our knights in shining armor?”

She turned to Sam and extended him a hand, and he noticed it. A long, clean scar traced a path from the top of her forehead to the bottom of her left cheek, through her left eye, which was artificial. Her natural eye’s iris was a deep, glowing crimson flecked with silver. Sam felt a bit naked under its gaze, for some reason. The fake eye... It took him a few seconds to figure out what he was looking at. It looked like an orb of coloured fire at first, but he then realized it was a spherical gem, with a pink tint and some inclusions within. Based on what he knew of the Goddess Faithful, this was probably a cut diamond... How peculiar.

The Luknight grasped and shook her muscular forearm. It was hard, and cold. “Well met, Holy Ghost Morta.” Her skin was as smooth as a maiden’s, but her activities in the Goddess Faithful went back at least eighty years, according to what data the Himedom’s intelligence services had dug up. If you could survive it, Mori-type chuubanite superdosing was a hell of a drug.

“Same to you, Sir Morwich. I take it your cruise from Global went smoothly? You arrive ahead of schedule. Good. You and your people can take some time to rest from your long journey before the hunt begins. Apologies for requesting your presence immediately following your arrival, but we’ve gotten a fresh specimen that will be of particular interest to you, especially to Lady Rochu.” The Lunaito scientist seemed a bit embarrassed by something, even before being mentioned by the Holy Ghost... This is when Sam noticed it, a buzzing sound coming from Ro’s coat.

“Ah, er, what kind of specimen is it, Lady Morta?” Ro spoke while pulling her VT-meter from her pocket. The device was positively rattling, the darker pink bubble boiling aggressively against the top of the gauge. It seemed her detection range did not account for entities like Morta.

The priestess smiled kindly at the younger woman. “Sorry about that, Ro. We have VT-meter calibration charts accounting for Holy Ghost presences, if you want. We’ll lend you one later.” She pointed her thumb back towards the refrigerated room she’d just come from. “I’m curious what a Luna-type chuubanite specialist would think of what we have in the morgue right now. It’s just been brought in from a province that was in the Salamensho Rex’s path.”

Sam had been wondering why their travel-weary presence would be requested so soon; things made more sense now. This seemed like a time-sensitive situation.

Ro steeled herself. Her first real assignment in this operation! A part of her was quite excited by the prospect. “Of course, Holy Ghost. Lead me to it.”

The tall Deadbeat nodded. “Excellent. Ambient chuubanite is a bit high in the refrigerator, it would be safer for you to wear an NBL cartridge mask*. In the meantime, Rushiko, can you introduce the proposed route to Sir Morwich and Lady Taffee?”

---

A few minutes later, a mask had been procured and fastened to Ro’s face, and the heavy, insulated door began turning on its hinges. A priestess had brought her a huge lined labcoat to put over her other clothes, but the air was still bitterly cold. An assistant quickly closed the door behind them to prevent warming the chamber more than necessary while the Lunaito found her bearings.

Each wall was criss-crossed by networks of tubes filled with a glowing pink substance. So this was what Deadbeat chuubanite refrigeration looked like... And in the center of the room... Oh, praise Luna...

Based on the shape suggested beneath, the centerpiece of the room was a table with a shrouded human body on it. Ro’d expected... some kind of animal, a lizard maybe. She gulped and took a step towards the table.

Morta did not share her reservations. She removed the shroud, carefully but confidently.

Ah. She hadn’t steeled herself enough. Ro felt an acid bile rise in her throat, but the thought of vomiting in the enclosed mask motivated her to keep her lunch where it belonged. The scene before her was horrifying.

It seemed like the creature had begun as a Deadbeat male, at some point. However, even for a Deadbeat, he was fleshless, every bone pushed strenuously against paper-thin skin, ribs threatening to tear holes in the epidermis. There was also what looked like fungal growths all over the corpse, grey-red bulbs concentrated around the joints, spine and on the poor man’s head and eyes. She’d never witnessed it, but she recognized it as a mutation of the Ophiocordyceps** fungus. And as a third layer of horror, on the whole body were these crystals, growing out of the body. One of them was jutting out of his forehead, at least six inches long and sharp as a razor. Others were poking out of his spine, and there was a big one near his sternum. She pulled out her VT-meter right away to check her intuition.

The gauge for Mori-type chuubanite was still maxed out, but she now had a reading for Luna-type chuubanite. She moved around the body and confirmed these crystals were related to a candification phenomenon... But such aggressive hard crystal growth was unusual, gummification was a more common form of candification for biological substances. Was this caused by an interaction between the two pink chuubanites?

Ro was about to ask Morta a question when-

The eye sockets filled with fungus turned towards her.

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!“

---

A minute and some chuckling reassurances later, Ro returned to her task. The priestesses had failed to mention this species of Ophiocordyceps could continue activating motor neurons quite a long time after the patient’s death. She was really getting to face her fears...

*NBL Cartridge Mask: Masks designed to filter all aerosol chuubanites from inhaled air through the use of noble gas saturated cartridges, usually cryogenically distilled helium or neon.

**Likely related to the Matiyotl Zombie Fungus

---

Current status: Sam and Sala are examining the route presented in Appendix 1 with Rushiko and Tosklo, Ro is examining the body with Morta, Rosso is with the rest of the expedition in a pleasant hotel, apparently the Little Himedom neighbourhood is pretty close by.

Appendix 1:

Travel through the lowland rainforest, boat stint across the lake, travel through the cooler temperate forests up to mountainous Andorra.

Chapter 2: Low-lying Rainforest, North of Memento

A few weeks before the events of Chapter 1

From the bushes outside his tent rose the low hum of the Moriji Grounded Cicada. The buzzing was softer and more metallic than other countries' cicadas. Shishov inspected the bugs some time ago. They'd exchanged the capacity for flight for an iron-black exoskeleton, cold to the touch and hard to crush, even in his big hairy paws of hands. Their wings were almost vestigial, but the membranes they rubbed against to sing their song were hardened, increasing the volume of the melody. It made for a pleasant ambiance, but Shishov was used to the constant clattering and screaming steel of the machine shops or factories where he spent most of his waking hours. His tolerance for screeching metal was probably greater than most people's.

Moriji bugs got better than groovy cicadas, however. Bugs being constrained to the jungle's floor was the true blessing. Whether it was the fat, lazy, and numerous arctic mosquitoes of his Motherland or the tiny, aggressive, and diseased ones of some of his tropical assignments, Shishov despised mosquitoes more than anything. Not having a single one of the fuckers buzzing around his ears made the sweltering heat worth it.

He dabbed the sweat off his brow before it got lost in his great jungle of a beard and put the blue handkerchief back in his breast pocket. This report had his rapt attention; he turned over the second to last page and scanned the figures. "Usam! Get in here, boy."

The young Pekoland engineer walked through the tent's flap into the shade. "What's up, 'Shov?" The kid barely had blue hair on his chin, but he was a real wiz and a hard worker to boot.

Shishov tapped the report with the back of his hand. "For this transect* of yours, you used the good compass for the positions, yeah? The one with dampening oil? You let the needle settle for at least ten seconds every time? This ain't the job for shortcuts!"

The questions didn't daunt Usam. He knew Shishov had no patience for fools, but Usam was no fool. "Yea, Boss, it's all kosher. Got triplicates for each data point, too, and statistical analysis on the last page. Included the activation levels from the VT-meter there." Shishov returned to the report on the humorously small folding chair, which creaked under his bulk. The old man swapped between the last and second to last page a couple of times, grumbling.

"Hm... Hrm..." The page displayed a detailed topographical map of the lands North of the Moriji capital, Memento. Each marked location on the map was a place where Usam, Gary, and Ekaterina had hiked to take chuubaniticity measurements, starting twenty kilometers off the coast and moving south. "Usam, the candy juice's spreading alright, but it's not decaying at expected rates. Concentrations are way too high away from the lizard's slime trail. Whaddaya think about that?"

The Chirinkov** pupil pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the back of his gloved hand. "I'll bet anything that it has to do with what Euphor's doing with those crystallized slime samples. That Pink Interaction of his." The bearded Shishilamyan nodded and grabbed another report flung to the edge of the foldable desk.

"Mhm. Had the same thought." A quick scan through the report's contents, a refresher. "Hmm. You sent a bird to Gelanora's LAB, right? They might have insights into Mori-Luna mixtures. These crystals' hardnesses are north of 70 HBC*** on the Bonewell scale, way too much for crystallized sugar-chuubanite. There's some Mori-type hardening going on. The Memento Semina's mycology department got the samples by now, yeah? Send 'em a letter, have 'em run microscopy with the sharpest tool in their shed. I know they've got some fancy optics in their creepy basements." Usam nodded and rushed out of the tent to carry out the instructions.

Shishov inhaled the last of his cigarette, smothered the butt in an ashtray, and exhaled the smoke into the humid tent. "A Pink Interaction, huh..."

Over the cicada's droning, an unusual sound rings out. A big branch creaks above, akin to the sound of the wind catching a large tarp. A moment later, a heavy landing can be heard on the jungle's dirt. Growls and screams filled the air right after. "Ah, fuck, what now." Shishov stood up straight, throwing the rickety chair on the floor. He grabbed his iron, a truncated blunderbuss, and strode through the tent's flap.

Outside, pandemonium. The engineer took two steps on the dirt, pinkish-white tendrils getting squished underfoot and shimmering syrup spurting out, seeping into the ground. The source of the chaos was to his left. One of those damn man-eating bats!

It had those wretched crystals growing out of its skin, like the bubonic plague's pustules. Next to it, splayed out on the ground, Gary. There was a bloodstain on the right side of his torso. On the other side, Usam had just walked out of his tent, but his reaction was fast. His flintlock pistol snapped up, he aimed, pulled the trigger-

The dense jungle muffled the shot's thunder, but it got the attention of the saltuchiroptera. It missed. Wood chips rained down on some foliage next to the tree trunk where the bullet was embedded. Usam let the gun fall out of his trembling hands, now useless.

Shishov's heart might have sunk in his chest if he had taken the time to look at Usam's expression of pure terror. But he didn't. He spent an instant checking the line of fire behind the bat and lined up the shot. Fire and fury.

His ears rang for a few seconds after firing. The grains of the shot got the bat in the shoulder, causing it to stagger. Thick, syrupy blood began forming beads on its white skin. Shishov's heart hoped to see the beast fall to the ground, dead. But his mind knew better; these creatures didn't die easy. But he got them more time.

Injured, the infuriated bat roared. It lifted its heavily clawed wings as it screamed. With its mouth open, one could see a mess of pink crystals jutting out haphazardly from its gums and palate. It looked painful. There was a pink froth dribbling from its lower jaw.

Shishov glanced behind the monster. Usam dragged Gary away from the camp, staring desperately at his team lead. Shishov gave him a nod that said it all. 'I have to give my boys more time.' At least he had its full attention now. The bat charged toward him. Shishov drew the long bowie knife sheathed at his waist.

And jumped right back into his tent. The bear of a man knocked the light table aside and slashed wildly at the back of the tent before jumping through the slit he'd just cut.

He landed on his chest heavily, knocking the air out of his lungs. 'Unf. Getting too old for this shit.' Shishov scrambled to get away from the tarp and glanced at his handiwork. The bat had thrust itself into the tent. Finding no Shishov within, it was now failing to disentangle itself from the fabric.

"Fyodorovich!"

Praise the Lion, Shishov was glad to hear that voice. "Where the fuck were you!?" He roared at the tall warrior. Hokus was wearing his black enameled armor and a demonic Death Mask. Sunlight filtering through the canopy reflected from his nodachi's polished face.

"I was pissing. Any other Saltus?" He was all business, as usual. That's what Shishov wanted right now.

"Didn't see any friends of his!" The hired blade simply stared at the two meters tall creature and hefted his weapon in a low defensive guard before approaching cautiously. Covered in the tarp, the monster was still flailing and tearing at the tent's fabric; it now looked more like a bundle of torn ribbons.

Hokus snapped his left hand towards its head. Three tiny black beads glinted before bursting in flashes of light and sound. The bat cowered for an instant; while this species did not use echolocation, it still had sensitive hearing.

The hunter did not miss a beat. He sprang forward and swung his sword horizontally while the creature crouched down. The blade's tip cut through a deformed wing-hand joint, separating two phalanges. A knife-like claw fell to the ground, and dark, thick blood bubbled out of the injury.

Shishov thought the bat's screeching scream might have made his damn ears bleed. It swung its other wing towards Hokus, who barely avoided injury, one claw scraping against his breastplate. With its other wing, it finally ripped off the bit of tent stuck on its head. Insofar as a giant man-eating bat could be seething in anger, this one was.

Hokus prepared to deflect the bat's next attack to counter and cut another phalange. He'd fought these creatures many times; his movements had the assurance of familiarity. And this one was smaller than average, probably a juvenile.

But something unexpected happened. The bat snapped its gruesome maw shut, smashing the growing crystals against each other. Some shattered shards of hardened sugar crystal shot from the mutated dentures in a cone. Hokus was unprepared for this. Pink needles broke against his armor, spreading a glittering powder on it, getting into gaps in his plates, and drawing blood from his elbows, thighs, and neck.

The Deadbeat grunted at the injuries. "Shit..." He put some distance between himself and the beast, but his movements grew more arduous as the candification quickly progressed around his joints. The bat advanced towards him, licking its crystallized gums. Mori's embrace was closing in. Hokus could feel it. He thanked her for a well-lived life and struggled to position his almost paralyzed joints in a two-handed high guard.

Leaves rustled high above. Shishov reloaded his gun when he saw the sword-staff strike down, lightning-like. The weapon had a long polished steel blade and a wide crossguard where a fitting fastened it to the long ash shaft. Standing with her two feet on the crossguard was a small white-furred Palkyrie. The silver tongue buried itself deep into the Saltus' back. Its hilt slammed into the hard white flesh, the impact pushing the bat onto its knees. The blade's tip stuck out of the front of its torso.

The newcomer pushed off the beast with its tail, spun around the shaft once, and pulled the polearm out, using the momentum to propel herself behind it. A large artery had been hit; the viscous blood was now pumping out of its back and chest.

Tosklo landed on her tail and rolled onto her short legs a little farther from her prey. It was hurt, but not down for the count. The Saltu charged her, slamming its bleeding, clawed wing on the ground. Tosklo dodged the strike and yanked on a thin, spider silk-like wire. It was so thin that Shishov could barely see it, merely observing parts that reflected the sunlight. A fist-sized metal beetle leaped off the bat's back with cricket-like legs, and Tosklo guided it back to its palm with the wire. Thick black blood covered it; it had been burrowed into the Saltu's back wound.

As soon as it was back in her hand, Tosklo brought the beetle to her mouth, sucked something out of it, and threw it aside to safety. Her eyes' pupils expanded, taking up almost her whole iris, and she lowered herself to the ground, her legs and tail coiled like springs. The bat made another charge toward the Palkyrie but slowed as she neared the small hunter.

It opened its glittering jaw wide and violently shut it close, but it was too late. The razor-sharp crystals peppered the bare ground. Tosklo had already shot herself forward. She rolled between the long-clawed wings' digits, thrust her sword-staff upward, right into the monster's neck, retracted it, and dove between its legs. The hunter struck without slowing down, fast enough that Shishov barely saw what had happened. She was already standing again, a few feet behind the Saltu, when fat globs of blood began pouring out of its neck. It turned around and took a few steps before collapsing, the heavy blood loss finally weakening it enough. Covered in dark crimson, its chest stopped raising and falling after a minute of bleeding out.

---

"Is he gonna be alright?" Ekaterina asked, worried. Garry's cut to his stomach was pretty shallow; his worse injury was a bruised rib from the Saltu's limb striking him. The group was more concerned about Hokus. Tosklo had pulled out every visible sugary shard with a set of pincers, but the skin where they struck was tender and irritated.

"Pfft, a couple sugar cubes ain't gonna kill me. Just get me to a real healer, and I'll be alright." Hokus said dismissively.

Tosklo tied the last bandage and chuckled. "Hokus ain't wrong, he'll be fine, but we should get him to someone with chuubanite cleansing equipment. Fyodorovich, we should get back to the city."

The bear of a man nodded. "Yeah, we could all use a night in proper beds. Where the hell were you, anyway? Taking a piss too?"

Hokus suppressed a laugh and wince while Tosklo responded to the teasing allegation. "I was escorting Ekaterina while she did some sampling, rushed through the branches as soon as I heard a gunshot. I'm more curious about what that bat was doing down here. Their habitat is restricted to the cloud forests, normally. I've never seen one so close to shore." She shifted her attention from Hokus to the big beetle on her forearm and scratched its shiny elytra gently.

Shishov glanced at the mutated abomination they'd killed. "This thing wasn't operating within known parameters, that's for Lamdamn sure. Ah, shit, I guess we should bring back some kind of biopsy. Usam, saw off its head, put it in a bag with some activated cold-packs****." The young pekoran engineer was staring at the ground intently, out of it.

"Usam!" Shishov barked the words out, snapping the man out of his daze. The team leader grabbed his shoulder with his big hand. "You did well out there."

This made Usam do a double take. "I fucked up, Boss... I missed it..."

Shishov harrumphed and poked his underling's chest. "Hah, you took the shot. That's what matters. You're an engineer, not a sharpshooter. Bugger was gonna get to Garry when you made your move. I'm proud of ya; just take the time to line up the shot next time. Now, get us that head. There's a sterilizer in Ekaterina's pack."

Usam stood straight. "Thanks' Shov. On it."

He walked off, and Shishov turned back to the others with a sigh. "I don't plan on there being a next time. We're bringing more security next time."

"We should have those Luknights with us next time we're on the trail. They're on their way to the capital." Tosklo seemed enthused by this prospect.

Shishov scratched his beard. "Well, better hope sugar knights know how to fight sugar buggers..."

Shit, Shishov always did prefer factory jobs over field research.

Chapter 3: Memento

Follows Chapter 1 directly

Chapter 4: Jungle South-West of Lake Deabeato

"Man, this stuff stinks."

The rosy mist the Lunaito scientists sprayed on the forest's ground seemed to take up residence in Shishov's nostrils, and refused to be replaced despite his best efforts. His cigarettes' smoke gave him only a temporary respite from the stench. Well, that was how he felt about it. The pink scientists claimed the smell was "clarifying" and "invigorating". That sounded more like Aggaya Syndrome* to him, poor bastards must have had their nose in this crap all the time to prepare it.

Despite his olfactory reservations on the substance, he had to admit it seemed to be pretty effective. As soon as the droplets touched the slimy tendrils, they soon writhed and fizzled, soon leaving only an ashy white residue behind which had a non-existent Luna-chuubanite signature. Smaller crystals burned brightly and smokily, much like a chunk of rare earth metal dropped in water. As the sprayers worked their pumps' cranks to sprinkle the mist around, other scientists followed a few paces behind them. Instead of fluid tanks, they carried baskets on their backs, and sweeped the jungle's floor with a strange instrument. A wide flat disk was fastened to this long shaft, and smaller pebbles of chuubanitic sugar stuck to it. Attraction through polarized Luna-type chuubanite, according to the cleaning crew. They'd also opened a few boxes of specialized bugs to dig up and eat trace amounts that might be shield by the dirt.

To round off the cleanup process, a long grabber in their left hand was used to pick larger crystals and drop them in the basket on their back. No doubt about it, these guys knew what they were doing. While the four-eyes did their work, Luknights were stationed all around them in the forest. Thankfully, they hadn't met any monstrosities yet. Shishov set to walking towards Usam and Ekaterina. He'd set them onto following the area's general chuubanitic gradient; it was particularly pronounced, so he suspected there was a big contaminant source nearby. They'd been following the trail of this gradient for the last two days, forging ahead while most of the expedition remained on the road, headed towards the lake's ferry with the Death Sloth-drawn wagons. The carts carried their heavy equipment, and special weapons the Lunaitos hoped could defeat the Salamensho, so their protection was of the utmost importance; Morta and Sala were heading off that convoy, while Sam was here, getting his men acquainted with the Moriji wilderness by escorting the cleanup crew.

Usam was reciting measurements from his instruments to Ekaterina. He was completely focused on his work, three of those blue Elden Jellies were drifting over his head, seemingly fascinated by his azure hair, but he didn't seem to have noticed them. One was resting on the top of his head, like an undersized gelatinous bonnet.

"Nice headgear Usam! We getting any closer?" Ekaterina chuckled while Usam sweeped the floating invertebrate off his scalp.

The pair consulted each other for a minute before answering. "Close, boss. Gradient's really ramping up, I reckon the source is right over that hill we've been climbing. Our people should probably put on PPE** to prevent chronic candification."

Shishov scratched his beard for a bit. He liked those news, they'd been on the trail for long enough. "Alright, give me the heading and I'll get back to the wagon, let the slothman know. You two forge on ahead, let me know as soon as you see whatever the fuck it is." Usam handed him a slip and the older man got to walking back to the Death Sloth.

He'd gotten used to the giants by now, but the Lunaitos were still getting used to them. This one was nearly five meters tall, with claws near as big as Shishov himself. It had a sleigh fastened to its back, ideal for pulling a large load through the jungle, and for anything that was in the way, the claws did short work of any small trees. The sleigh housed a large lead sarcophagus where the Lunaitos frequently dumped the magical rock sugar they collected. To be able to drag such a burden around the jungle, these creatures must have tremendous power. Sitting on a bench fastened to the Death Sloth's back were the Deadbeat slothman and Tosklo.

The engineer climbed up a rope ladder onto the beast. "Tosklo, you brat, you're not bothering him are ye?" She stuck her tongue out at him in response.

"I'm doing an escorting, old man." This amused middle-aged slothman; he seemed about as relaxed as his Deadsloth, who was grazing on some bushes.

"Well, go do a mask distributing instead, we're getting close to the high exposure zone. They're in the chest on the left side of the wagon." Shishov sat down on the small bench with a sight of relief. while Tosklo acquiesced and bounced across the sloth's back to jump onto the wagon. She sure was energetic. Then, he told the driver to get the sloth moving again.

---

They crested the hill soon after, and as Usam and Ekaterina determined, there it was, in the middle of the clearing. An enormous... Well, it was a pile of lizard shit. Pale grey and dotted with luna-chuubanite crystals, but lizard shit all the same. That made a chunk of sense, the animal's droppings would be a particularly intense source of contamination. The masked-up team gingerly approached the mass, to figure out their plan of attack. It had congealed into single hard object, so shoveling it piecewise into the containment sarcophagus wouldn't work, but the wagon did include a crane, thankfully. Lunaito and Deadbeat techs got to work tying the crap hill to the chainfall, when everyone felt a rumbling in the deepest part of their guts.

All the watchful Luknights unsheathed their weapons; familiar with MonHuns, they knew what this sound meant. Sam yelled out his first order. "Something big's coming nanora! All pull back to the wagon, Knights take up a defensive formation Northward naaaa!"

The source of the noise appeared soon after. Or rather, the sources. Shishov had never seen one in person, and was thankful to witness them from the top of the Deadsloth. Four adult Common Necropotamuses, each around 6 meters long, four tons of thick hard bone and densified fat. The charging beasts seemed rabid covered in crystallines growths as the Saltu from the other day was. Their two feet long canines glimmered in the jungle's twilight, pink and sharp and deadly.

Shishov gulped. This was the first test for the royal monster hunters.

Chapter 5: Jungle South-West of Lake Deabeato

Follows Chapter 4 directly