Multiple Settings Mass Clans: Beyond

[Firestorm of TempestPack]

"Don't sell yourself short just yet. I've found that some of the strangest or simplest things have a gotten a positive reception from Thrush." Nyx notes, "If you're still unsure, you could always consult the kitty in question. Now, what were some of your ideas?"


"You should sing more." Thistle mews in the quiet that follows his sister's song.

"For you?" Thrush sidesteps into Thistle's space and bumps shoulders with him, "Always." Together they start their hike up the hill.

 

[Moonsound]

”A friend I had growing up came up with this plan for a school dance. We would collect intel on what the couple you’re trying to get together like. So figure out what Trin likes in a mate and tell Thrush, figure out what Thrush likes and tell Trin and then set them up for the perfect date. Maybe some planet with good weather or maybe some place crazy like a world made of candy. I don’t know.” Lexi whispered to Nyx, ending with a shrug. The twins stole a curious glance at her at the mention of a candy world. Neither was aware that was a possibility until now.


“Something Thrush said made me want to do something for her. Is that something she’d like or would something else better? ” Lexi added on for the little bit of context and queried Nyx.

 

[Filament]

Hal glared at the tom as he went on and on, playing the victim and insinuating that he genuinely believed it was better to live in chains than die free. "Have you even been to Panolpy, before it was destroyed?" The tom would ask, his shoulders beginning to slack as he came to be fully inebriated. "Wherez the rehabilitation huh? What about saving the unsavable, redemption?" The tom would ask, furrowing his brow as he tried to stop the world from spinning.

"You just sound like a zealout so high off your own ideology that you cannot see that free-will is non-conditional. You cannot pick and choose rights for the masses." The tom would snort and stand to his paws a bit clumsily but clearly beginning to become skilled and moving under the influence.

"Equality for all, except for you, somebody's gotta be in charge right? Can't trust the animals to be their own masters." The tom would snark,

"Thankfully, your impotent God, says that good guy, Nastiel is here to make sure we stay in line." At this point the tom is fairly belligerantly drunk but that is certainly obvious to anyone with ears and eyes.

"Fight your own war, I don't care who wins anymore." The tom would hiss to the Navy alien, brushing past him and making for the door but not before slipping the GodRing patch from his vest and stomping it with a careless hindleg.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Crowd?" Filament would ponder, stopping and scratching his chin. His adolescence, still not behind him, seemed a blur. The earliest memories foggy and indiscernable from the white noise that the tom supposed malingered in the minds of each cat. "I don't really remember much from when I was younger." The tom would admit, keeping pace with the others as the crested the hill.

What lay before them was chaos, in the middle of the road, rested the caravan's cart. To either side off the blacktop fire danced, sending sparks and fire into the air. The air was wrought with odors of spoil, choking with smoke, and gunpowder.
Two bleary feline shapes adorned the canvas top of the cart, one holding a wheel-gun with a shaking paw and the other trembling beside.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The shadowy mass that surrounded the cart writhed and moved like a sludge and the caterwhauls of the souls within sang to the sky a cacophony of terrified helpless screams that deafened the beleaguered animals atop of it. The sounds ranged from the whimpering cries of those burned, the dying and the sick but they were off somehow. Desperate were they in their voices that they resembled what old-world doctors might recognize as pleading of those gone rabid.

All of the voices shared a similar hopeless tone that was almost incomprehensible in volume as they were in mass. Easily outnumbering those above and possibly inside in numbers ranging well past a dozen.
The strength of those rocked the wagon side to side. Only to the best of ears was the sound of clear but scared voices yelling to each other and the sound of another gunshot.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Holly's eyes widened at the sight down the road, the brush on either side of it engulfed in fire that stung her eyes and washed her pelt with heat even at the moderate distance. The fire was enormous and on occasion the wind shifted just right, sending it washing over the- Words could not describe what she was seeing but it was clearly a crowd of various quadrupeds, desperately rocking the vehicle as they tried to shield themselves from the fire.

The collective sound of the agony of a possibly fifty or a hundred animals strained her ears even as they flattened to her head.

Her legs began to quiver and she looked to Trin desperately. "We should try to help them." The she-cat mewed, managing to steady her limbs enough to stand evenly at the top of the hill.
The odor of something soiled, the fire, and burning hair filled her lungs from the highway below and she shivered again.

Giving a silent prayer, the she-cat looked pleadingly at the alabaster tom before cresting the hill and heading down. They didn't have time for discussion.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Flame looked at the corn weakly, pressing his nose to the bowl. "It smells good, kinda salty." The tom mewed, looking up from it with a blood trickling from one of his nostrils. He lapped at the bowl hungrily, his painfully palid tongue seeking for something to stop the pain in his dry throat.

 

[Moonsound]

The Trinities watched Hal leave without a word. As soon as the tom was gone and the door was closed behind him the doe Trin exaggeratedly bowed.

“Thaaank you. Thaaank you.” She said to a crowd of rolling eyes and dry snickers.

“You could have been nicer.” One Trinity noted.

“No I couldn’t. Or at least not in the 5 other cycles I tried to get him to leave. Go too hard and the group backs him up, too easy and he doesn’t leave.” The doe defended with a tiny iota of offense in her voice.

“Wait. You wan—“ Penny started but was cut off instantly.

“-wanted Hal to leave? Yes. An extremely drunk Hal isn’t exactly helpful in the coming fight. That and another thing.” The older looking Trin answered.

“So you know exactly what’s going to happen? …..…Do any of us die?” Penny asked, looking at the group of Trins eager for an answer.

“Oh Penny…I really do miss you. ” One Trinity said, adopting a warm yet melancholic smile on his face.

“It’s me?” Penny balked, her ears drooping and twitching.

“Ha! No. Or maybe? We don’t know. And I’ve never met you before now.” The same Trinity laughed, wiping the genuine expression from his face.

“Wh-WHAT!?” Penny yowled, her voice transitioning from saddened shock to enraged annoyance.

“We genuinely don’t know if any of you live or die.” A Trinity answered honestly.

“Do you meet any of us in the future!?” Penny asked in a growl. To her this was a simple conundrum to solve and the Trins were being purposefully opaque.

“Oh yeah, totally. But that doesn’t mean you survive tonight. Time’s really complicated. As in REALLY complicated. Just because that Trin over there is old and has thousands of years of experiences after this night, doesn’t actually guarantee that I will live as long as he has. All it guarantees is that he has lived that long. Hell, Trin prime, who is an older me, is older than him. We’re the same animal but the sheer fact we have interacted gives potential for that time pathway to collapse.” A Trin explained, his tone indicating he took Penny more seriously than the other one.

“But can’t you tell me if I survive tonight specifically? Any of us?” Penny asked, cocking her head with a flurry of emotions fighting for dominance in her features.

“The temporal pincer maneuver isn’t designed to achieve a perfect outcome. It’s first and foremost to keep the designated small blind Trinity alive. Nothing more. It works off cycles—“

“Please refrain from spoiling our most guarded tactic.” A winged Trinity butted in, frowning at the previous speaker.

“In the future, them knowing how the tactic works may ensure our own survival one day. Trust me, these animals are special. As I was saying, the maneuver uses cycles to collect information.” The Trinity from before defended then brought his attention back to Penny.

“That’s a nicer way of saying the first version of Trinity that encounters a threat this large either dies or comes close to dying.” A younger version of Triss cut in.

“Essentially. We’ve all trained ourselves to be able to open a portal to at least three other versions of ourself, even if we’re dead. As long as the brain can send signals, we can open a portal by muscle memory alone. Once the threat is detected-”

“Usually by having a dead Trinity body flop down in front of one us.” The younger Triss added in bluntly again.

“Yes. And once that happens, the version of us that received the body tells all the others. By process of elimination we figure out whose timeline is leading them to a significant threat. The Trinity in danger then prepares for the fight and more importantly, logs everything that happened leading up to whatever significantly wounds them. Then they open a portal to the recent past. Tell their past self what happened, their past self takes that new knowledge into battle. Rinse and repeat until we are the victor.” The Trin who took Penny seriously explained.

“I’m…I’m a little lost here.” Keesipip meowed, raising her paw like a student in a classroom. Milky silently nodded his head. He too had gotten confused.

“Okay…hmm…Let’s say you want to defuse a bomb, like in the movies. Alright?” The Trin looked at Keesipip and Milky. The two nodded, following along.

“But there are eight wires and you have no idea which one to cut. Still with me?”

“Yes.” Keesipip meowed emphatically.

“So, you could just hope for the best. Cut a wire, blow up. Done, dead. You tried your best, them’s the breaks. Oh well. But the goal here is to survive, even though you have no idea what the correct answer is. So instead you leverage your past self. Open a portal to the past behind you, tug out the wire, and then get blown through the portal. Your past self sees you with a blue wire in your mouth and now knows that blue isn’t the answer. And just like that—“

“Snap.” One of the Trinities with highly dexterous paws physically snapped.

“—The timeline where you died from pulling the blue wire is gone. That pathway collapses in less time than it takes an atom to vibrate. And now, you know not to tug the blue wire. So you go in again, open another portal to the past and tug the green wire. You all keeping up?” The Trin asked, getting a nod from Keesipip and Milky.

“Now if you really have time to plan, you could put a list in your pocket of the wires that you’ve seen that haven’t worked. But either way, eventually you will tug out a wire and not explode. And as soon as you do, every pathway where you died collapses and you have technically pulled the right wire on the first try. At least according to every other known observer; theoretical or otherwise.” The Trin finished. Keesipip’s muzzle formed an ‘o’ as she nodded in understanding. Then she grimaced.

“So…you die over and over again.” The ashlander stated in a disturbed tone. Her expression unchanged.

“We’ll technically you ar—“

“Yes. Yes we do. But we die over and over again so we don’t have to die forever.” The younger Triss cut off her male counterpart, nodding her head to Keesipip.

“And why can’t you tell us if we survive?” Penny asked skeptically.

“Each cycle brings the risk of failure. We fail to get through the portal or we fail to identify what killed us. A dead body shot through the head doesn’t provide very much intel on what to avoid. Using the bomb defusal analogy, nothing is learned if you don’t get blown through the portal or the wire falls out of your mouth. And if you don’t get through the portal…that usually means you’re dead for good. Each cycle brings a risk of that, so whenever we do this maneuver…”

“We stop as soon as we have a victorious cycle.” The doe Trin finished for young Triss.

“We don’t try to go back in and find the perfect method that saves everyone and ends faultlessly. We can’t. Not anymore. A normal temporal pincer may take hundreds of cycles already, and we even don’t tell ourselves how many tries it takes anymore. We used to…One Trin would ask that we try and get it right. Bring everybody out on the other side, or even just bring a certain animal. But that’s asking too much… The first time we did it it took more than 40,000 cycles. The cycles start to wear on you. You start getting scared that maybe you’re in a death loop, that there is no other side and you slipped up 5,000 cycles back and you’re just stuck dying forever. You start forgetting tactics that got you this far or that far into the battle, and at that point you essentially have to start from cycle one all over again. You get sloppy. You start abusing the maneuver, taking it for granted, wasting cycles. What everyone else experiences as a hectic half an hour, was two years for us going over mistake after mistake, failure after failure and death after death…Every now and then one of us would get desperate again. And back into the crucible we’d go. As soon as you figure out how to keep Leckin alive, Cherry Sunrise Sundae dies. You keep her alive, Vanity 19’s mom dies. You keep all three alive and it locks you into a situation where Speed has to block the bullet for you, so back to the beginning we go because that Trin just can’t let Speed die either. And on and on until it’s been half a decade…..but we’d tell ourselves there was no price too high for our friends. Ten years, twenty years, a century, it didn’t matter as long as we could bring everyone out on the other side. Until finally one Trinity got too desperate. He wanted to get everyone out of an ambush.” A Trinity with ear piercings explained, their voice stressed and pained as they went on.

“He wanted to save his family from a mercenary raid. It was a textbook case of complacency and hubris. He made some bad enemies. Did nothing to deter them from coming after him, did nothing to prepare his group comprised of non-combatants to defend themselves, did nothing to ensure the temporal pincer could even work to save them. He just expected it to work. And it did. To save him and him only. But he got greedy…He just couldn’t move on. So he had us going in again and again to try and figure out a way to keep him and his family alive against a large militia without also splitting the timeline to pieces! And there was just no way that was going to happen! We spent YEARS trying to get it right until finally we’d exhausted every option. The small blind got stuck in a spot where the only way to get his family out was for him to die. And he still refused! We told him we could either get him out or he could die for his family but after decades, we were done. He was stuck in a deathloop. So we left. And that b*****d is probably still out there losing more and more of his mind dying forever.” The normal Triss the group knew chimed in, her tone spiking with anger every so often.

“The only one who knows who lives and who dies for certain is the big blind.-“ The doe Trin pointed to the bloodied Trin who was washing his fur out in the kitchen sink, “-And he won’t tell, because that erases all the work of the previous cycles. Once one of you knows you are or aren’t going to die you act differently. We genuinely don’t know if you will or won’t live Penny. All you can do is your best. And know that in making sure we survive, we never sacrifice anyone else. We don’t put our life over anyone else’s either. The last thing we want is for one of you to die.” The doe finished, her tone sounding genuine and caring.


“Oh and Nastiel, don’t get too hard on Hal. Trin Prime hasn’t done a good job of showing these guys the multiverse. They don’t know what it’s like. He’s never taken them anywhere just for the sake of leisure and I don’t think he’s ever sat down and given them even a basic education on it. He’s been too laser focused on Undertaker and it’s to their detriment.” The doe switched her attention to Nastiel. The navy tom was still clearly peeved, sitting in a completely closed off posture.

“Or Hal’s just an a**hole.” Nastiel growled, unreceptive of the message. To which the doe’s expression soured into an annoyed deadpan at his obdurate behavior.


______________________


Trin stared down at the scene. His pupils grew bigger at the astonishing sight before shrinking smaller than before due to the light of the fires. Trin was content to watch them and come up with a plan but Holly was quick to action. He was laying on his belly and reached to grab her but couldn’t. Hurriedly he got to his paws and started after the sheline.

“Wait something’s not right!” Trin yelled, stopping in his tracks. If they were going to fight, Trin wanted the enemy to be coming up hill.

“Hunter, stay on the top of the hill and whistle as loud as you can! Get their attention.” Trin shouted back at Hunter before continuing his chase after Holly. The brown tom in question nodded and after a few long strides Trin heard a long, loud whistle from behind him.

 

[Firestorm of TempestPack]

"After everything that's happened recently, I think they deserve something nice and relaxed." Nyx says, "That planet with good weather sounds wonderful. I know she may not seem like it but Thrush enjoys baths. Maybe book a spa day for the both of them? Food is always appreciated, that's a safe choice." The demon smiles down at the huntress. "Whatever you decide on, I think they'll enjoy it."


The craterborn siblings glance at Hunter when he begins his distraction then follow Trin after Holly.

 

[Filament]

Hal grabs his rifle as he heads out the door. "Just an asshole." The tom grumbles as the door closes behind him and he heads down the elevator. The lobby is eerily quiet barring a tv in the room that was following the news as it happened across Star-world. The front doors were closed but opened from the inside as he headed out onto the sidewalk, the door locking behind him.
The sidewalks are empty, there are no looters in sight but that is not what interests the bicolor tom. He pulls out Luther's PCD and hails the soldiers scooter down from the sky.
Without much fanfare, the tom gets into the seat and tries to get comfortable as the vehicle lifts up into the sky.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The mass surrounding the wagon doesn't pay the whistling much mind at first, most of them having trouble distinguishing higher sounds after what has possibly been hours of gunshots and roaring fire. A few stragglers take note and begin to limp towards the hill. As they come into view of Trin and Holly, it's fairly obvious that they are not stereotypical mindless zombies. They are less injured than those that were on the outside of the wagon being scorched but they have numerous injuries.
Some are missing an eye or both have been burned away, others have gunshot wounds and drop from the effort as they get nearer to them.
The single coyote that manages to make it to them of the stragglers is a badly burnt coyote who reeks of burnt fur, although the stench is so heavy in the air it would be hard for them to discern it was even coming from him if it wasn't for his patchy burnt coat and exposed burnt flesh.
His eyes are clear but pleading as he approaches. His frame is emaciated enough that the ridges of his spine are visible through his mangled coat. His throat emits some kind of gurgling that resembles whimpering but it is clear that his body is in such rough shape that he is unable to communicate.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Between the ash and blaring light of the fire, Ford is unable to see the group or much of anything. His eyes are red and inflamed from the smoke and at this point he's having trouble breathing.

Another gust of wind sends the fire washing against the sides of the wagon and the crowd and the combined momentum of the crowd recoiling all at once and the strength of gust caused the wagon to enter a fatal tilt at which point one of the two wheels lifts off the ground.
The sound of broken glass and caterwhauls break the constant wheezing of the crowd as the wagon slams onto it's side, a plastic barrel of water, swollen and scorched bursts as it connects with the ground, extinguishing most of the fire on the left side of the road.
Members of the crowd plunge inside the open back of the wagon and Ford finds himself on his side. His pelt is wet with sooty water and grass but he manages to get to his paws quickly, still gripping the gun.
Beside him, Lizeth stirs but doesn't move to get her bearings and the scarred tom lifts her over his shoulders and stumbles over the recently extinguished and still hot dead brush. Steam rises steadily and the smell of dying fire and burn flesh chokes him.
Painfully, the tom carries her around the side of the wagon and the mass fighting to get inside the cover of the wagon.
As the get to the rear of the wagon and head to the round a loud whistling sound starts from the wagon a huge fireball shoots out what had been a side compartment, now facing skyward into the air. Wood slivers fly outwards from the compartment in all directions and the distinct odor of alcohol spirits joins the collective stench in the air.
Ford and his companion are rocked by the explosion and blown onto the side by the hot air made free by the newly created hole in the side of the wagon.
Some of the sick stumble out of the wreckage on fire, or covered in so much shrapnel that they stumble or collapse behind the downed caravaners.
The suffering, who are unharmed by the blast stumble off through the newly created wet patch on the side of the road into the country side covered in blood and bits of gore.

 

[Moonsound]

“That’s horrifying…” Trin thought aloud in a tone not matching his words. The tom watched the burned coyote approach with morbid curiosity. Staring at its eyes and gait. Before the animal could get too close to him however Lexi ran in from the side and donkey-kicked it in the head as hard as she could.

“What are you doing?” The huntress asked incredulously.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say these animals looked like war refu—“ Trin cut himself off when the wagon exploded behind Lexi, making the two of them duck down. The two of them, and Hunter from the top of the hill, watched the crowd of animals scramble away from the scene. Their eyes reflecting the remaining flames. Silence engulfed them as they watched the animal flee, burn, or both.

“…You two okay in there!?…..Need help!?” Trin called out, content to not approach the wagon just yet. The acrid smell was already bad enough from the bottom of the hill. Lexi looked down the road in both directions to see if anything was approaching while Trin perked his ears up awaiting an answer.

_______________


“God damnit he took one of the guns.” Nastiel noted in frustration, after looking around the room.

“They are nice guns.” False Lamb commented.

“Not helpful.” Nastiel retorted.

_________________


“Your nose is bleeding.” Aceline meowed to Flame, asking him with her eyes if he was okay.

 

[Filament]

Ford wheezed and tried to stand but failed. A small fire rose from the side of the wagon but was extinguished by a harsh gust of wind. "The boy, he's in the wagon!" Ford yowled, coughing and spluttering as he crawled forward, dragging the injured she-cat with him by her scruff. His revolver is still clasped roughly in his paw and his eyes are bleary and watery. Every fiber of his being wants to go back and check on Streak but he knows enough about triage to get himself and her away from harm first. They're no use to him dead.
His side fur is scorched and he has a few shrapnel injuries but other than that, his biggest problem is that he's having trouble breathing. It feels like he's choking.
By the time he reaches Trin and Holly, he's gagging for air while attempting to resuscitate his companion. Her calico frame is covered in blood that isn't hers and her sides aren't moving.
"Help me get her breathing again." The tom would mew hoarsely, falling into another coughing fit as he attempts to get air into her body.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Holly moves over to the calico she-cat and begins rendering a much more practiced and efficient chest compressions and gestures for Trin to check inside the wagon.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The sight inside the vehicle is beyond horrific. Chunks of burn flesh and blood litter the inside. In the back corner, is the body of a stringy tabby tom. His corpse is littered with claw marks that look deceivingly defensive. His head is completely torn asunder with shrapnel from the compartment that had burst above him and two of his legs are bent at impossible angles. His sides do not move, and what remains of his eyes are unblinking.
The bodies of two afflicted lie in front of him towards the entrance of the wagon beyond a completely obliterated solar panel. Glass, broken wood, and melted rubber absolutely litter the interior, as well as popped corn kernals that pour from a ripped canvas bag of corn.
Another water jug hangs from the inside wall, perforated and leaking water onto the wood beneath their paws.
Inside the only odor perceptible is of burnt wood and pop-corn mixed with strong liquors that mercifully remove the smell of viscera.
The tarp that covered what had been the roof was almost entirely disintegrated and moved freely with the wind, still connected by a single rope made from hemp.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Huh? Oh." The tom would mew, ceasing his meal and bringing a paw to his nose. "Probably just burst capillaries." He gives her a determined look and takes another bite. "I'll be okay." He reassures, his appetite not escaping him.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Holly startles as the she-cat beneath her begins to breath again, her sides heaving desperately. Almost as soon as she's conscious she tries to get to her paws, but Holly pushes her onto her flank. "Don't move, just focus on breathing." The she-cat orders sternly, making room so that Ford can get closer to inspect the bandaged she-cat.


The ginger sheline takes off Lizeth's satchel and pulls out some bandages, covering what injuries she's able to see on the two caravaneers.

 

[Firestorm of TempestPack]

Thistle and Thrush make it their duty to clear the area. They each take a side of the ruined caravan, one by one checking for life in any of the burnt or sickly looking bodies. Thrush uses her holy sight to scan the distance for any other living beings.

"Everybody alright?" Thistle calls. "Oh..." Upon seeing Lizeth lying relatively still on the ground he scurries over to help Holly.


"Is this... Is this what their home was like?" Nyx asks no one in particular. From what little she's heard about her friend's home, the Crater, it sounds empty and bleak and rife with dangers. The demoness creeps towards the caravan slowly, unsure of just what will pop out of the shadows.

 

[Moonsound]

Trin stepped into the wagon, immediately taking in the gruesome sight. Trin grimaces at the deceased’s state but that was the extent of his visual reaction to it all. He reached a paw into the downpour of popcorn and put a couple kernels into his mouth, chewing them as he took his last looks at the bodies as well as inventory of anything salvageable. Everything seemed lost. With the cacophony of smells finally getting to him, Trin stepped back outside.

“Your buddy didn’t make it Ford. Nor did any of your water.” Trin informed as he padded over to him and Lizeth.

“Is there a town nearby or someplace we could get you two to?” The red eyed tom asked, pulling out a water bottle from his plastic bag and setting it down next to the two caravaners.

_________


“If it is…it answers a lot of questions. And brings some new ones.” Lexi answered Nyx dryly.

The two twins slowly crept down the hill behind Nyx, followed by Hunter.

 

[Filament]

Filament is shortly behind Nyx, watching her back wearily. The smell is overwhelming but at this point he's so used to mass acts of violence that he manages only a quiet retch. Months ago he'd be spilling his guts but sights like this no longer disturb him to that point. Instead he breathes a sigh of relief as the bleeding she-cat comes back to the living world, panting but alive. "Impressive work, you two." The umber tom praises Holly and Thistle, though his expression is grim.
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"Shit, shit shit shit!" Ford coughs, slamming a forepaw into the dirt hopelessly, as if it would save him from having to face what lie inside the wagon. His breaths are harsh and he wheezes again. His nose is running and his heart is racing as he trudges over to the cart, leaving Lizeth in the care of cats he knew well enough. Bits of his fur are singed and there is already blood peaking through some of his bandages but he seems steady enough.
The stocky tom roughly shoves the bodies of the afflicted out of the cart and falls backwards onto his rear when he takes in the sight before him. "You damn stupid kid." The tom whimpered, directing the comment towards himself this time as he remembered saying the same thing to Streak earlier. Back when they'd started.

"This is my fault, I made him ride in there for what he did with you all last time." His words are abnormally clear, losing their almost stereotypical western drawl.
"He probably died feeling like such a disappointment." He forces his gaze away from the body and leaves the revolver by the end of the wagon as he heads inside.

He visibly struggles but succeeds in dumping the corn out of the bag, covering the bodies of the dead just outside.
Wordlessly, he drags the canvas sack back inside and scoops his friend and apprentice into the bag, coating his pelt with blood. "I'm not going to leave you here, not ever, I'm so sorry." His voice cracks and the sack slips from his grip onto the wall that was now a floor.
The tom makes his way back to the outside of the wagon.
"This was a mistake. I shouldn't ever have been sent with only two journeymen."

"Wolf, can you help me turn the cart back onto it's wheels?" The tom would ask, his eyes red and teary as he casts another look at the sack that now carries his dead charge.
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Holly gives a solemn look at Thistle, her eyes swirling with emotion. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." The tom would mew to the calico, who shook and shivered on the cold dirt, seemingly entirely ignorant of the scarf on her neck, which was burnt but certainly still usable.
"He's gone isn't he?" She'd ask after what felt like hours to her but were in actuality only a couple of minutes. She might've been in shock but she understood that if her friend was alive, he'd be out of that wagon by now.
"I want to go home." She whimpered, beginning to sob loudly.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Ford manages to recover enough to speak to Trin again. "We're just outside of a town, not too far ahead. We'd just left when they set on us." The tom would explain, resting his head on a trembling paw while looking at the field of blood and shell casings around them.

"It's on an overpass." The tom whimpered. "We don't have anything to trade for supplies."
"We're going to be just like them." The tom would realize out loud, as he watched the last of the sick fade into the shadows.

 

[Firestorm of TempestPack]

Nyx nods to Ford and gets to work. She presses her shoulder into the frame and pushes with all her might. The cargo still inside shifts noisily. Flipping the cart is fairly easy for the wolf but it's unwieldy and awkward to get a good grip on. Eventually she rights the transport. "There you go. Would you like us to escort you to the town?" She asks, though hesitant to call something set up on an overpass a "town".

Thrush returns to where the group has gathered. There are no landmarks to be seen and she wonders just how far they are from their first previous landing zone in this world.

"Should we.... Should we bury him?" Thistle whispers.

 

[Moonsound]

“What’s their local currency?” Lexi whispered to Hunter. The tom shrugged.

“I don’t know, old human bills? Coins? Bottle caps? They probably barter.” Hunter muttered back.

__

“It’s okay. You’ll get to go home. We promise.” Trin meowed softly, looking at her sympathetically. His gaze went to the horizon when Ford said they weren’t too far from a town.

“Maybe we could trade my water for something.” Trin thought aloud to no one in particular as he stared into the distance.

 

[Filament]

"I'd appreciate it." Ford mews weakly, still having trouble breathing properly. Trying to catch his breath, he took stock on the condition of the wagon. Aside from the hole in the side, scorching everywhere, some melted tire tread and a missing tarp it seemed to be sturdy enough to at least get them to the town.
"We're never gonna get home." The tom mewed forlornly, lowering his head.

When Trin made his suggestion the tom stifled a sad laugh. "Should keep it. Won't really do us any good. I've still got my gun and some bullets I can trade for food." the tom would mew, shoving the aforementioned objects into the cart.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Filament nodded to Hunter. "I'd bet my eye they barter."

 

[Moonsound]

Hunter looked at Filament and hummed.

“I bet they’d take that bet.” He quipped with and gave him a nod of agreement.

“I thought you were from here.” Lexi said in a neutral tone.

“Wrong planet, and certainly wrong hemisphere.” Hunter answered. Lexi’s ear flicked in acknowledgement of his words while her gaze followed Ford. To say she had a sympathetic look in her face would be a stretch too far. Rather her face was that of morbid intrigue at best. Despite her more frazzled behavior around Malevo, Lexi proved to still be her normal hard-boiled self.

“I guess that answers the burial question.” Lexi commented in a low voice.

_________

“Well then at the least it’ll be a treat for you two. It’s rather exotic water. Mint condition bottles, filtered, with minerals and all kinds of stuff…” Trin meowed as he walked after the caravaner tom, looking around for the means to pull the wagon. When he found what he assumed was the harness for the wagon he set about attaching himself.

“See, despite the circumstances Ford. I was hoping to hire you as a guide. I still wish to in fact. I am truly sorry about your friend…but you two aren’t out of luck just yet. I’d happily compensate you for a job well done.” Trin meowed, giving the tom the offer casually but in tone that subtly hinted at it’s financial potential.

________


As Hal zoomed off on Luther’s scooter, a pair of eyes watched him from an unknown vantage. Their luminescence clear and evident now that the sun had set.

 

[Filament]

"Yep, that's why I'm not a gambler." Filament would mutter humorously but quietly. When Lexi spoke he directed his attention to her in an attempt to distract himself from the terrible odor which now, with adrenaline running off, was beginning to be insufferable.

"God no. I went to college, remember?" The umber tom would reply, almost offended but not quite there yet.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Ford turned his teary eyes towards Trin. "Who are you people? Why are you all so healthy and have all these nice things?" The tom's expression was one of 'just level with me, I'm not going to give a shit I just want to know.'
Surprisingly, for as prideful as they had been, Ford accepted the water and downed about half the bottle before, tilting Lizeth's head back while helping her finish the rest. "We were up there for hours."

"They took most of our food with them."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

[Moonsound]

“Right. Advanced civilization,” -Lexi whispered and pointed to Filament, “-primitive civilization.” She finished by pointing at Hunter.

“We had stuff!” Hunter said a little too loudly, resulting in Lexi miming with her paw for him to lower the volume. He didn’t sound offended. It was more just him wanting to correct her.

“Don’t take it personal. If you’re below a 1 on the Kardashev scale, God-Ring considers you primitive. My race was primitive before contact too.” Lexi meowed with a shrug. It is what it is.

“Can’t we just turn off our translator things so we don’t need to worry about them hearing?” Hunter asked, raising his brows a smidge higher.

“Good idea.” Lexi meowed, reaching toward him and pressing her paw against the back of his neck.

“Stah-ton myuoo TAK todon-dodododoun. KAK midimidimidimidee Hunter naveran-kuh?“ Lexi cocked her head with a deadpan. Hunter blinked in confusion before deflating. His ears and eye lids drooped as he understood what happened. Lexi stared at him for a few moments to let the humiliation sink in before reaching back and reactivating his translator.

“It’s a two way street. I turn yours off I can’t understand you but you can’t understand me either.” The huntress stated.

“Got it.” Hunter rolled his eyes.

“Wait. If you blew up…how do you still have a translator?” Lexi asked, letting the question hang in the air. It was pretty clear Hunter wouldn’t know so she wasn’t asking him directly and her eyes went towards Filament instead.

_______


“We’re well-off foreigners. Travelers trying to get those two,” Trin pointed to the blonde twins, “-to a certain spot. That’s all. A spot that just so happens to be where you first met us.” He finished with an unassuming resting facial expression. Technically nothing he’d said was a lie.

 

[Moonsound]

The collection of Trins found themselves spread about the apartment once again. Quietly chatting amongst themselves or watching the news on the tv talk about the world’s symphony.

“Oh that’s perfect.” PIM whispered to herself.

“What’s perfect?” Crimson asked.

“The therapist I sent Trin to made it out of the symphony. And is eager to continue working with him.” PIM informed with a bit of pep in her voice.

“Wonderful?” Crimson said in an unsure tone while forcing a grin onto her muzzle.

“Wonderful indeed.” PIM responded with a sincere nod.


—

“So you’re all versions of Trin…right?” Rum asked the largest collected group of timeline jumpers gathered. When she did, all six pairs of eyes looked to her warmly.

“That we are Rumamilliananini.” One of them said. The others nodded.

“Sooo that means you’ve been through the same stuff we have? Our Trin has?” Rum asked, her hopeful tone of voice alluding to a bigger question.

“Not exactly. There are some similarities in our lives but we’re all different.” One of them answered.

“Really? Like how?” Rum cocked her head.

“Well your Trin grew up with a single mother and built PIM. I on the other paw had a father and a step-mom. A-and I’m a girl.” One of the Trins explained. Now that Rum was closer to them you could make out minute details that differentiated them. Details that were probably the reason all the Trins could seemingly tell each other apart like it was nothing. The female who just spoke had a black nose instead of a pink one. Another one’s mouth was orange instead of pink. Some wore subtle lipstick, another stood differently, one had more pronounced veins in their ears, etc. There were still a handful that were exact copies of one another but even then they had different quirks in their speech.

“You were, I want to say, the craziest Trinity I ever found.” One of them said, pointing to the black nosed female.

“Not in front of the kit.” She said, which only made Rum more interested in hearing the story.

“How crazy?!” The gray she-cat chirped.

“Crazy. I found her when she was about your age. I was on this delightful planet with a culture stuck somewhere between atompunk and art-deco renaissance. Gorgeous place, great weather, nice ivory colored star. I’d been staying there for a couple weeks and decided to take a cruise. A retro cruise too, you know big boat on the actual water type cruise. And first day of the voyage I see this little white girl, and she sees me. I thought nothing of it, not everyone who looks like me is an actual version of me. And I assumed the little girl was just staring because we looked alike. A day goes by on the cruise, I’m doing cruise stuff you know? Bingo, eating ice cream, watching the shows. Especially watching the drunk animals stumble whenever the ship sways. Standard cruise ship fair. Then day two comes around. And this little girl-“ Rum and the other Trins listening leaned in while the speaker pointed to the black nosed variant, “-is still watching me. But it’s not innocent kitten intrigue. Noooo, she’s sizing me up. When I’m in the pool, she’s watching me as she happens to walk past with a group of friends. In the buffet line, she’s right behind me just looking me up and down. And never shied away from eye contact either! You know kids usually look away from a stranger after awhile, but not her. Every. Time we ran into one another she’d look at me. And so at this point the first thing I’m thinking is WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS!?” The Trinity telling the story exclaimed, getting a few laughs.

“I needed to know!” The black nosed female whisper yelled, hiding a snicker by putting her forepaws against her muzzle. The Trin telling the story gave her a knowing look before continuing.

“So by day three I’ve decided. I wake up in my cabin and I’m like, “I gotta figure this girl out. This is a nine day cruise!” So I start paying attention to her whenever we just so serendipitously run into each other all the time. Sometimes she’s alone, sometimes she’s with a group of little girls like her. But never an adults. No mom, no dad to speak of. I thought I’d found her dad once but then that guy goes off with one of the other girls of her clique. What else?…Oh right! And she’s never dressed right. She’s too well made up for some kit on a cruise. She wore braided pig-tails that fell right behind her ear, combed her fur down like bangs just above her eyes. And on the third day she wore this prep school jacket, school swimsuit underneath, and gold claw covers. Rich kit stuff! But on a cruise? Who wears their prep school jacket on a cruise? And of course, she’s always watching. Even if she was talking to her friends when I walked in her eyes would go to me. So I’m freaking out. There’s this little girl who keeps watching me, has no visible parents, and wears clothes that don’t make sense! If someone plans to swim they don’t put on claw covers. So finally. A little before sunset this weird girl finally walks over to me, and asks me to play as her dad so that she can get into the adult spa area. And I’m like, BOOM! Got it! Some sense this is starting to make. She’s been sizing me up to see if I can pass as her daaad. She’s totally not a changeling, or an assassin, or some walking personification of death itself here to reap my immortal soul. Just a little rebellious girl wanting to get into the adult area because she thinks it’ll be cool or something. So I agree. I’m thinking it’ll get her off my back for the rest of the cruise. I ask her when she’s ready to go, she says immediately, and we go. We get to the spa, I tell them she’s my daughter, and nobody bats an eye because of course they don’t she’s practically a mirror of me. Done. Now I’m expecting her to just scurry on off! Maybe get a massage or put some cold fruit over her eyes, stare as some animals doing yoga, leave a charge or two on my card and skedaddle. But no. We walk in and she’s got her tail twined with mine. I’m like, okay. She’s devoted to her role I guess, she’ll get off. But nope. I turn right. She turns right. I head toward the jacuzzi. She heads toward the jacuzzi. I get in, she gets in. I scoot away, she scoots closer. I scoot again, she scoots again. Then she starts being obnoxious. I scoot away and this time she scoots right into me with a splash and a loud laugh. She starts giggling and splashing, swimming around the jacuzzi, dunking her head under the water and spitting it out at me. She even does a little cannon ball! Sends water everywhere and then hugs me going on about how happy she is to spend time with me ever since mom took custody or something like that. And I’m stuck there with this awkward grin on my face while this girl, who everyone thinks is my apparently forcibly estranged daughter, goes haywire. And that’s the weird part. See, she’d been watching me for days and I’d seen her each time. And she was never obnoxious. Ever. I didn’t know much about her but that’s one thing that was clear; she didn’t act like a kit. It’s part of the reason her staring was so unsettling. And then it happened! Her plan fell into place. It didn’t take long for the other two adults to leave the jacuzzi area with a little kit running around. And as soon as they did. She stops. She stops messing around, sits down right next to me, and whispers in my ear that she has a state room all to herself and that she’d really like to show me. Then she gets up and walks away.”

“Did you go?” Rum asked, curious how this story would end.

“No! And I was sure he would too!” The black nosed female answered in his stead.

“Of course I didn’t go! This little psycho changed her dinner seating to be at my table that night and blackmailed me. Either I go to her room or face some extreme consequences. So I went along. I figured if worst came to worst I could just portal off world or portal her to the middle of some desert. But I was not prepared for what her devious mind had cooked up…”

“What?” Rum asked, glancing over at the black nosed female before returning her attention to the Trinity speaking.

“I get to her room. And this criminal mastermind is running a full blown underage prostitution ring! Out of her cabin. And thought I would be a customer. I start freaking out, I ask who she even is and she finally tells me her name and it all clicked. Her name was Trincy, Trincy Amecca. I had to spend the rest of the cruise explaining the multiverse to her. Also I told her father at the end and got everyone else arrested.” The Trin finished his story.

“I got grounded for a year too! And charged as a minor for a whole number of crimes I didn’t even know I did!” The black nosed sheline said in a mock whine.

“Oh boo hoo. Care to explain the context before everyone starts giving you weird looks?” The storyteller said, playfully batting her on the head.

“Okay so. My dad was a rich bank magnate. Richer than some small nations but extremely busy. When I was really young he wanted to find a way to spend time with me, so we started going on cruises. Once a month at minimum. He’d still do work on the cruises but it was better than at home. A couple months after this tradition started my mom died. In comes my terrible influence step mom. She did the cruises with us for a bit but it wasn’t long before she’d just stay home to spend my dad’s cash. But she cruised with us juuust long enough to inject into my mind her belief that beauty and sex was everything. She told me it was power, it was prestige, it was the key to everything you wanted in life. Because that’s how she landed by dad; she looked good and that’s it. She wasn’t caring or smart or had really any redeeming qualities but she knew how to make guys look at her. And so, a couple voyages after she stopped tagging along I noticed how some older tom-cats would look at me in the pool in my swimsuit. How their pupils would dilate when I ate ice cream just a little slower than usual. And dad was never there. At first we stayed in the same room but then he used the excuse of me “getting older and wanted to respect my privacy” so he could get his own room and focus on work. So fast forward a couple more voyages and I had it down to a science. I knew what clothes got the most attention, what behavior held their attention, and how to make them feel safe to leer at me. Then one of the made me an offer and I realized I could make some money.” Trincy explained.

“So you sold yourself out?” Speed asked, having joined in the conversation a little ways in.

“Pssh. No…No I wouldn’t hurt myself. But I realized I could manipulate my peers. At this point I’d been on a LOT of cruises. I was only like eight at the time but I’d practically been raised aboard cruise ships. At that point we would often disembark one ship and get right on to another. And I just picked up the patterns. Unless it was summer, the largest demographic would always be old cats. At least middle aged, usually older and retired or on the verge. In summer that largest demographic switched to families. But every voyage had at least a few kits, which is exactly what I needed. And for most of my peers it would be their first time cruising. They’d want to have fun and go wild. So…I segmented them into three groups. First you had what I called clingers. They kept to their family, had dinner with them every night on board, usually had siblings. Often had helicopter parents keeping an eye on them. You had a few hours tops before their parents would come looking and they were almost never allowed out after curfew. Second were what I called roamers/rebels. These ones wanted to keep away from their parents—“

“I told you all she was crazy.” The other Trin said.

“-Shut up—like I was saying. Roamers liked to roam the ship. Hang out in areas alone, avoid their family, and were more open to making ship friends. Especially if one of those friends was a rich girl with a big fancy room they could hide from their family in while drinking alcohol they weren’t supposed to have. Roamers were great but still a little dangerous to work with. They avoided their folks but their parents still would want to seek them out after a time. Usually around 4 to 6 hours if they haven’t seen their kit at all. And they’d be suspicious if they saw their kit with an adult unaccompanied. But a roamer on board with a non-direct family member like an aunt or cousin was a breeze to work with. Lastly there were the golden gooses, the loners. Kittens with their own rooms, given lots of freedom, and extremely relaxed parents. Their kit could be gone all day, seen with another adult, lock their room door, you name it and their parents wouldn’t care or investigate too much. Some because their parents didn’t care others because their parents were too exhausted or focused on vacationing themselves but either way it made my job easier. And loners were the easiest. Sure I managed to get a few clingers to work but they were too stressful and risky. Roamers and loners was the name of my game and I was good at my game. It took me several voyages to get it right but then it was like clockwork. Day one was always reserved for befriending my peers. Introductions, show them my room, meet their family if I could, establish myself as the expert on cruising and then just have fun. I’d scope out potential buyers but the subject was never mentioned on day one. Day two was to test the waters, no pun intended. Broach the topic, see if any of my new friends liked older guys. Nudge them to reconsider if I thought I could convince them. Point them towards the guys I wanted them to. Just generally sees their minds with the idea. And also test their parents. Did their parents trust me? Would they let me invite their kitten to my room? Maybe even sleepover at my room? If I was with an adult they didn’t know was my word and comfortable demeanor enough to get them to not question it? Basic stuff. Then came day three. Day three was the make or break and was always busy. You gotta cement the potential buyers and get the kittens to admit they’re open to something that’s illegal and taboo. And then you hope you’ve got some compatible matches. I wasn’t sloppy. You pair a girl with a creep or someone she doesn’t like and things start getting out of control. It’s why the buyers had to be figured out by end of day one so you could start planting the idea of them to the kittens on day two. A quick, “he’s cute” there and a subtle, “aren’t orange toms so exotic?” throughout the day went a long way. If I did my job right, the kittens would be primed by midday so I could start knocking down the buyers. Like what I did to Trin, there were lots of innocent little ways to gauge how open someone was to my particular product. Too open and they’d be a liability, they may go too far, want too much, scare the kit. Too closed off and they’d rat me out or at least back out. Someone getting cold paws meant I wasted time, meaning I wasted money. And sometimes it even meant a disappointed kitten if they were really susceptible to my priming the first two days. Either way, my standards were immutable and strict. A tom willing to lie to let a little girl do something was usually the best gauge. Asking for an alcoholic drink, or to bet at the casino with them let me feel them out while confirming they were comfortable breaking a few rules with a child. I’d watch the amount of eye contact, how long they looked, how long they’d let me stay close to them, all of it. Then I’d hook’em! Offer them to come to my room and then I was off to the races. Day four was easy. Meet in my room in the morning, get everyone’s money and just let whatever happened happen. All I had to do was keep suspicion down. Have some generic party ambiance playing in the back whenever I answered the phone in my room. Ask the families to pwitty pwitty pleeeease let their kit sleepover in my room that night. Play off the buyers as family members of mine if they’re out and about with one of the kits. Keep the families from talking to one another. Basic management. And the longer the cruise, the more cramped my safe got. I didn’t need the money but I don’t work for free, and my work was very lucrative. If the cruise was long enough, day six and beyond was when I could rest and just collect my checks. If making the universe took God six days before he could rest, he was overworking. That or making the universe is a little harder than running an illegal trafficking ring. Either way the cruise ends. The kittens have some crazy story to tell their friends, the buyers had some fun, and they all get out of my fur never to be seen again. No trail to lead back to me, I hop on another ship after giving any of the clingy ones some fake contact details and the game starts all over again. Dad never paid enough attention to notice and I almost never ran into anyone more than once. I had that going without a hitch for four years until Trinity showed up. He got my attention immediately. The guy looked like my dad, uncle, and non-existent brother. And I was sure I could get him, and even if I couldn’t what could he do? No one would ever believe a little girl was the mastermind. I thought I knew the way the world worked and then here comes this guy to tell me that there’s multiple universes, portals, and versions of me out there. I got grounded, charged, detained and then worked with the authorities for years to detect and bring up rings similar to mine. No one else used cruise ships like I did but there were a couple other young ones like me that figured no one would think the kits themselves were the ones running it. When I turned 18 Trinity showed back up like he promised and my adventures through the multiverse began. Not too shabby if I do say so myself.” The black nosed sheline finished, stretching out her forelegs. She froze midway through when she saw that about half the eyes in the room were on her.

“What?” She asked innocently.

“…That’s horrible.” One Trin said after several long moments of silence.

“I was horrible. But I’ve changed. And don’t act like some of your stories aren’t just as bad as mine!” Trincy defended, rolling her eyes. Her response didn’t convince most of the animals watching.

“Wh-what was your other question sweetie?” Trincy asked Rum. Shrugging off the stares.

“Um……well I was going to ask if you knew who my mom was.” Rum said, her eyes awkwardly moving about.

“Oh…I believe her name is Heevicheep. Keesipip knows her.” A maned Trin answered after a moment of thought.


—


Callista sat down besides Lethe and yawned into a paw.

“Excuse me. Lethe I never did ask…what was it like for you growing up? Any kithood memories that stick out to you?” The tiger tailed she-cat asked. Her tone was casual and it would appear she was trying to make small talk. Her gaze revealed that she was genuinely curious about his past. Curious enough for the bridge of her nose to scrunch up when she thought she wasn’t being clear enough.

“I-I’ve heard plenty about Adrianna but I would like to hear just about you.” Callista meowed, giving him a new grin.

 

[Firestorm of TempestPack]

Lethe's mouth snaps shut after his jaw was left hanging open at Trincy's story. He shakes his head as if to erase the story from his mind before his attention turns to Callista. "Me? Oh- well, I was raised by my ma, never knew my father. Enlisted when I was old enough, visited home as often as I could (which to say wasn't often enough). My kithood was pretty normal. Compared to what I've heard of everyone else, mine was boring and downright cozy." He smirks, " 'Drianna's told you stories, eh? Well did she tell you that we met at our mom's funeral?"

 

[Moonsound]

Callista matched Lethe’s smirk.

“Cozy is nice to hear, especially in comparison to that story. But no, Adrianna did nooot tell me where you two met.” Callista meowed with a voice full of mirth.

“How’d that go? The funeral meeting.” Callista queried, pointing at the air in front of Lethe. Her eyes pinched at the corners and a small curl on the edges of her maw.

—

A soft knock came at the door, getting the ears of all the Trins to perk.

“Thousands of dimensions have been affected and while millions are reported missing. We reached out to the lifeline corps but they were too busy for comments…” The news anchor faded as the television volume was lowered. All the Trins exchanged confused and or suspicious looks with one another.

“Did someone order a pizza or something?” A black furred Trin asked. Since he was the closest to the door he got up from his spot on the floor and padded over to it. All the Trins watched him closely as he did so.

“What’s wro—did this not happen before?” Speed asked just above a whisper.

“Nope.” The doe Trin responded, watching the door closely. The black tom-cat pressed the button and the metal door clicked open. With one paw he pulled open the door to reveal the tele-trans delivery doe from before.

“Hi! Did you uh, did you order…something?” The doe asked in an unsure tone. It was also apparent that her species could sweat because the fur around her face was glassy with moisture. Her nose and lips were clammy, and her eyes were taunt with stress.

“No.” The black furred Trin responded. He perked behind the doe and into the hall. While he did so the delivery doe stepped into the apartment uninvited. The action was more akin to a fearful animal attempting to hide from something than that of someone barging in.

“I-I-I got this pa–I picked up this package but I can’t remember what it is. An-and my head hurts, and I feel sick in my stomach. I’m pretty sure this is the place though.” The doe rambled, as she reached into her pack and pulled out a small white box. The delivery worker was delirious and mentally confused. That much was clear.

“Ca-can I lay down?” She asked out of breath.

“PIM, check the box?” The maned Trin ordered in the cadence of a question. PIM immediately understood the gravity of the situation and went over to scan the box. She took it from the doe, who was grateful that she could practically collapse on the floor.

PIM went crossed eyed to stare at the box balanced on top of her head for a couple seconds.

“Well…..it’s not a bomb.” PIM explained, dropping the box down onto the floor. The AI flipped open the lid on the box, showing the room the gruesome scene within. In the box were two heads shoved in without care. One was easily identifiable as Charlat Goat. The other one was unknown to most, until Triss stepped in to get a better look.

“That’s Fil’s mom...” Triss meowed, her jaw held open slightly before closing and clenching.

“F-ugh-ck.” Triss cursed and retched at the same time. It wasn’t the image that made her stomach flip, it was the huge implications. How could she explain to Filament when he got back? How’d this happen? What kind of message was this? As the questions began to overwhelm her Triss looked away from the box and covered her mouth with a paw.

 

[Filament]

Filament was about to interject and point out that his civilization wasn't that advanced compared to some but he supposed his perspective might be a little biased. "Didn't I hear that your civilization had flying machines? That's pretty great. At least before that calico bastard ruined everything." The tom seemed a bit solemn at that last bit. If the Earth cats had lived like this, that was truly sad. This world seemed completely trashed and hopeless. Especially true, he thought as he watched Ford readjust the corpse of his charge in the back of the wagon, securing it with bungee cords.
________________________________________________

Streak looked at the young Trin in disbelief. He didn't know what half of what she'd said meant but it went without saying that he was certainly disturbed by the entire analogue, enough that he'd scooted slightly away from Jezebel in order to give himself more distance from the alabaster she-cat.
_________________________________________________
"Fine we'll take you there, but we need to head back to the town to get food and supplies first. We don't have near enough to get that far as it is." The tom would mew breathlessly, hitching himself to what remained of his harness. "Stay close to the wagon." The bicolor tom would advise, extending a revolver from the side of the harness to Trin.

 

[Moonsound]

“Got it.” Trin said with a nod and took the revolver.

“You guys, we’re leaving. Keep close to the wagon.” Trin called over to Lexi and the others. The huntress turned to follow the wagon after making a quick promise to discuss Hunter’s translator at a later time. Keesipip followed them from the rear.

“Thank you for taking us you two! If you need any help during the trip, I’ve got pretty good stamina!” Keesipip shouted to Ford and Lizeth from the back.

—

The blonde twins keep close to Nyx, but started to bicker quietly with one another over an indiscernible subject as they followed along with the group.


_________


Jezebel noticed the youngling and scooped Streak up with her forepaws, pulling him against her chest.

“Come here rascal. I think now’s the perfect time to get you to bed. Trin’s not here so you can take his big fluffy one, how’s that sound?” She asked, ruffling the fur on the top of his head with her chin.


“Yeah. Purple. Rum, you kits wanna head upstairs.” Crimson said, her tone just assertive enough to make it clear it was more of an order rather than a question. The red fur on her back was standing on end from anxiety. The unsettled energy flowing off the Trins, the decapitated heads in a box, and the clearly drugged delivery doe wasn’t making her feel too safe and “mom” mode was activating. She couldn’t pin it, but she was no comfortable with Purple, and by extension the other younglings, being down here anymore.

“Yeah, it’s getting late for you all.” The black nosed she-cat Trin meowed out her support to removing the kits.

“Nah, I want to stay. I’m not that young anymore.” Rum said in response to the adults.

 

[Firestorm of TempestPack]

"Well it certainly was awkward without mother around to explain the situation, but it was nice to not be alone in my grief. After the funeral, Adrianna and I spent some time together, getting to know one another and sharing fond memories and stories of our mother from our own kithoods." Lethe mews, a soft smile touching his lips, "Adrianna told me she got her knack for tinkering and interest in fixing things from all the time she spent watching and helping our mother work."



"Yeah, but high-tech vehicles or machinery like that were rarely seen. The Alliance had flying machines only because they had engineers to handle upkeep, scavvers to gather parts, teams to actually fly them, and a secure hangar to store them in." Thistle answers Filament quietly, trying to not expose their status as offworlders to Ford and his crew. "The original group Thrush and I were in actually hijacked an airship from pirates once. And then, before we left Earth, our friend Adrianna fixed up her own airship. She said she'd been working on it for years in her shop."

Thistle starts walking when he sees the wagon begin to move. He stays just far enough back so that he and Filament can continue their conversation in relative privacy. "Before I was swept up into a new life of adventure as an Alliance messenger, I've only seen the corpses of the ancient sky giants while traversing the Zones. Their bones remain in their final resting places while the metal plating has long been stripped away to be used for building houses or water storage tanks." He watches their surroundings as the caravan carries along. It's shocking how similar this place is to his homeworld. "While everyone we meet nowadays thinks of Earth as primitive - and it is - compared to what you all have grown up with, there are some parts I wish you could've experienced. Tell me, what's your homeworld like?"

 

[Filament]

"Oh you mean like, airplanes? Similar to the ones the Mia'Moray have?" Filament would ask, able to infer what the tom was talking about. When instead a question is directed to him he's not really sure how to answer it. "Very technically inclined. When we're young we have aptitude tests that we take to do determine what field we're going to into. It's not as awful as it sounds though. It's not like some worlds where life is just work and school." The tom would assure, assuming that to most the idea of being trained to do anything from a young age might sound a bit unnerving at first.
"We get electives and arts are considered to be important too. I chose to study art as a secondary skill because it paired well with my electrical aptness. That's how I made so much money in Hell, if you were curious." The tom would explain, keeping pace with the tom as their paws got dustier.

"We were also encouraged to travel the world and explore different colonies on our planet."
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ford gives the she-cat an appreciative nod, his legs quivering with each step. It's pretty clear that he's not going to be able to pull the wagon the mile or two to their destination on his own with the way he's getting on, especially with Lizeth and Streak in the back. Even now that their water stores were destroyed, leaving the vehicle much lighter.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Okay, I'll go upstairs." Streak replies, stretching his body and making his way to the stairs. He gives a look towards Rum but doesn't seem interested in sticking around when there's a nice soft bed to lay in. "Please help protect them." He'd call, as he makes it to the second floor.
________________________________________________
Holly stays behind Filament and Thistle, ears perked and her head on a swivel. It's pretty clear just how unnerved she is by the whole experience up to this point.

 

[Moonsound]

Callista smiled warmly at Lethe’s story.

“Why that’s lovely. A companion in rough times is truly invaluable.” Callista purred. The story absolutely delighted her. It gave her a cozy feeling in her chest.

—

As Purple got up from her spot on the couch she nudged Bailey and Jass to come along. The three of them started to head towards the stairs, while Crimson watched them.

“Purple I said-“ When the sheline in question turned around Crimson was quick to start an impatient scolding.

“I’m just getting Italia.” Purple chirped out to assuage her aunt as she headed back to wake the sleeping kit in question.

—

“Hey PIM. Did you scan the doe’s body?” One of the Trinitys asked, pointing to the delirious delivery doe.

“No? Let me do that.” PIM responded, turning away from the box with the heads. Leaving False Lamb to stare down into it by herself, rage steadily building in those purple depths of hers she called eyes.

—

Jezebel waved a paw up at Streak with an open mouth smile.

“I’ll keep them safe. Promis—“

“BOM—” PIM’s yell, overlapping with Jezebel’s words, were the last thing heard before everything went black. In an instant. A force of flame, air, and shrapnel hurtled outward across the first floor of the apartment. Its epicenter being the delivery doe by the couch. The windows of the penthouse were blown out. And black plumes of smoke flowed out through them for all the world to see.

____________________


Hunter padded along listening to Thistle and Filament. Shaking off a dusty paw or two whenever a grain got stuck between his pads.

“Yeah like the Mia’moray… Those were the days…” He commented with a nod to Thistle.

“You miss it?” Lexi asked.

“I kinda d–“ Hunter’s mouth was soon plugged by a dusty paw.

“Not you… Any colonies that were cool? If you went to any. And what’s a Zones? Sounds like something from my home.” Lexi asked, querying both Fil and Thistle. Hunter spat out her paw and retched slightly at the sand on his tongue.

____


Trin looked down at Ford’s legs and grimaced.

“Let me take over. You should take a break. You can just tell me where to go.” Trin offered.


___________________________


Rum stood stock still in the apartment. Completely unharmed with not a lock of fur out of place. Her mouth agape and her eyes wide; staring at the devastation around her. Black smoke stung the eyes and stained everything from the walls, to the floor, to the numerous bodies laying around. Her ears didn’t ring at first so she couldn’t hear anything. She just looked around in shock, both figuratively and literally.

There were dead Trinitys everywhere. Motionless and bleeding. With more viscera and carnage visible the closer you got to the explosion’s epicenter. The couch the doe was lying against was totally unrecognizable and the delivery doe in question was gone entirely.

Slowly, Rum’s hearing came back to her in a painful way. In the form of head splitting ear aches as they began to ring and the sounds of the world grew louder and louder. Alarms could be heard from outside. The hologram tv was still running, displaying an image of Lussmill looking towards an explosion in the distance. And groaning, coughing, and wheezing could be heard further away from the epicenter. With her hearing back Rum was shaken from her shock and her eyes adjusted so that she could focus and see details in the environment again. The first thing that caught her eye was a neon orange and purple silhouette cradling something in one corner of the room, it’s high vis coloring shining through the dark smoke. Next was the body of False Lamb. Her back was bloodied and looked like she’d been pushed into a deli slicer. With her eyesight restored Rum could see that the mob cat was still breathing.

“He-hello? Can anyone hear me?” Rum asked, starting to slowly wander through the room. She couldn’t see far ahead of her so she had to carefully place her paws if she wanted to avoid stepping on a body. It wasn’t very long until she tripped and fell onto someone. She didn’t land on fur however, instead she was atop a feline clothed in a space age material. It had that distinctive feel to it, like leather but a million times more flexible than normal leather. Rum knew who was wearing that.

“Speed?” The she-cat asked, crawling off the body and looking to her head.

“Speed wake up.” Rum said, shaking her roughly.

“Speed I really need your help right now.” Rum whimpered out anxiously. She grabbed the gray sheline’s head and gave it a slight shake. When she let go, her head twisted and fell back to the ground limply. The motion eerily similar to what you’d expect a drowsy cat that didn’t want to wake up to do.

“Triss!? Jezebel!? Seh-Saraphina!? Lu-Lula? Guys!? Speed’s hurt real bad! I—I don’t know what to do! I need your help!” Rumamiliananini yelled out into the smokey apartment. Her ears perked up out of optimism, hopeful for a response from one of the animals she’d called out for. Her ears drooped when none of them responded.

“Anyone?” Rum whimpered out on the verge of tears.