Gunfire. Smoke. Explosions.

  The battlefield was a chaotic symphony of carnage. Soldiers lay face down in puddles formed by the rain that had fallen for five straight days, their blood mixing with the liquid.

  Ilja hurriedly dove behind the barricade which surrounded the road on both sides. The company had been ambushed and already suffered heavy casualties.

  It had been a military operation that, truth be told, none of the rank-and-file soldiers were fond of. Terrible terrain, a shortage of supplies and a questionable end goal made their time here miserable.

  Now they were taking attacks from all sides, young men dropping like flies, while the generals who signed off on this battle sat at their desks polishing their latest medal of accomplishment.

  Ilja peered over the edge of the barricade and then shot his assault rifle wildly, ducking back under when shots came back his way. He unclipped a grenade from his belt and tossed it blindly over the side.

  As sounds of panic and retreat came back in response, he crawled prone away from the barricade, attempting to sneak away to regroup with whatever remnants of his comrades remained.

  What came next was the moment which defined his life.

  An enemy soldier who had leaped over the barricade in front of him spotted the tattooed Russian. The world seemed to move in slow motion as the enemy drew his sidearm, a semi-automatic pistol. Ilja got on his knee and raised his rifle.

  It was clear that he was a step slower; this was the end for him.

  Four gunshots rang out into the air, and blood dripped onto the ground as Ilja’s eyes widened.

  A fellow soldier had leaped in front of him, shielding him from the gunfire with his own body. The young man collapsed onto his back, dead. Ilja fired his rifle at the pistol-wielding enemy, and he too fell to the ground.

  Ilja wanted to grab his saviour's body to bring with him, but he knew he would never escape with it in tow, so he reluctantly left him there. He never found out the soldier's name, yet he owed him everything.

  It turned out that the rest of the company had been fully wiped out, and by the miracle granted by the unnamed soldier, he was the sole survivor.

  Upon returning to Moscow, he found himself becoming increasingly disillusioned with the military. The operation was deemed a failure and swept under the rug. The blood, sweat and sacrifice meant nothing; only the result mattered, and those who had given their lives were mere numbers on a casualty report.

  The unnamed soldier would never be considered a hero; the next general or bureaucrat who stumbled into a win would be the one who stood atop the pedestal worshiped by the masses.

  One day, soon after, he found himself at a run-down bar, drowning his misery in yet another glass of vodka. The door opened, and he turned. No one ever came to this place besides him.

  The man who entered was dressed in some clothing Ilja recognized only from period pieces; he had some grey hairs, so he was presumably quite a bit older than Ilja, but not quite advanced enough to be called middle-aged.

  He talked openly to the bartender about sightings of a ‘leftover’ Vampire that had taken refuge somewhere within the city that he was hunting. Ilja thought he was nuts or doing some kind of Dungeons and Dragons roleplay that he was much too old for. When the bartender began to go over rumours he had heard, however, Ilja realized something more was going on here; the bartender had always been no-nonsense and not the type to play games.

  “I want in.”

  He spoke the words without thinking, the light drunkenness maybe having something to do with it, and the two men turned to him.

  “You’d have to join the order if you want to hunt monsters. That means giving up your current job and living a life of secrecy. Your friends and family can never know what it is you are signing up for.”

  The strange man spoke to him, and Ilja laughed at the absurdity of it all.

  “You can't just choose to leave Russia’s military; defection comes with a prison sentence.”

  “Our order holds more power than any country in the world. I assure you that none would attempt to punish you for joining us. After all, I, on my own, could dismantle this entire country within an hour at most if I wanted.”

  For the first time in his life, Ilja felt unbridled terror. The man spoke with such certainty that, deep within himself, he knew it to be true. That this one person was capable of more destruction than any nuclear weapon could dream of.

  “I'm only going to give you a minute to think about it. Decline, and I'll alter your memory so we never met. Accept, and I'll get our informant here to arrange your spot in a training class that will awaken your latent magic. The choice is yours.”

  ————————

  “Earth to Ilja.”

  Larsa’s voice broke the Russian man out of his reminiscence of the whirlwind of circumstance which brought him to this very time and place.

  The three were sitting behind a wall of ice that Holly had expertly conjured. Its exterior reflected the surroundings, making them invisible to anyone on the outside looking in.

  “Now really isn't the time to be staring off into space. We need to be ready to jump that thing at any time.”

  Ilja rolled his eyes in response to Larsa’s statement.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, American, but we've been waiting here for that hairy thing to lower its guard for what has to be close to half an hour. Even my soldier's attention has its limits when watching the enemy crouch and stare in our general direction for so long.”

  From their side, they could clearly see out several yards away, where a Sasquatch had been lurking around the base of Ayers Rock, feeding on a kangaroo. When they had gotten within viewing distance of the monster, and it caught a glimpse of them, Holly thought fast and made the ice wall.

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  “I say we go now. We’ll run out of time at this rate.”

  Ilja’s proposal finally got Holly’s attention when she had been laser-focused in a one-sided staring contest with the beast up to that point.

  “It's better to wait for an opening. We still need one more monster for our quota after this, so we should conserve our energy if we can.”

  Evidently, the strategic and calculating Holly had checked back in once again.

  “I'm somewhere in between both of you. Let's give it a couple more minutes, and if it looks away, we go for the surprise attack; if it still stays looking at us, we take it head-on.”

  “Fine.”

  “Very well.”

  Larsa’s suggestion was met with tentative approval from her partners. Given their two personalities (or current one in Holly’s case), this was likely the best result she could hope for.

  “Holly, do you have any last-minute insight for what we’re up against?” Larsa asked.

  “Sasquatch, a primate-like monster with a deceptive balance of strength and speed. While it lacks the size of the Sandworm, its greater aggressiveness will make it the toughest thing we've fought tonight.”

  Ilja scoffed at this, earning him narrowed eyes from the icy woman.

  “Anything that isn't plainly obvious to anyone with a bit of knowledge on Bigfoot?”

  Ilja’s inquiry caused Holly to sigh, her breath a visible mist thanks to maintaining an ice spell despite the dry natural conditions of the land around them.

  “As you indicated, Sasquatch have a number of nicknames, most famously ‘Bigfoot’ and ‘Yeti’. This is because their abilities and appearance change slightly depending on the environment. In Australia, urban legends call them ‘Yowie’.”

  “Between this and knowing both names of this rock, you sure do know a lot about Australia.”

  “I-”

  Holly cut herself off from whatever she was about to respond with to Larsa, shaking her head as if to steady herself in the process.

  “An old friend of mine used to live here. That’s all.”

  As Holly turned back to look towards their quarry, Larsa couldn’t help but frown. There was definitely something more to this, but before she could even think to press further…movement. The Yowie had finally returned to eating the kangaroo.

  “Now!”

  The ice wall dissipated, and the trio began rushing towards the hairy beast. It paused, and though the humans couldn’t see from their angle, it grinned. It then gripped the tail of its meal and hurled it towards them!

  The Marsupial collided with Ilja, knocking him off his feet! Larsa and Holly came to a stop soon after, and the swordswoman moved to kick the mammal's corpse off their Russian teammate. Meanwhile, Holly shot a sharp icicle-like projectile at the Yowie to cover them.

  The Sasquatch backhanded the attack, easily shattering it into small snowflakes! It roared into the sky and began jogging towards them, its footsteps making loud thumping sounds.

  “It tricked us! And we fell straight into its trap!” Larsa grit her teeth before dashing away from Ilja and past Holly to intercept the monster. As the most melee-specialized of the group, she was the only one who could battle it effectively in close quarters.

  She swung her enhanced blade at the Yowie, who met the blow with its fist! Her sword cut into the knuckle, and the Yowie groaned in pain, though the gash was far more shallow than Larsa had anticipated.

  The monster followed up with a punting kick to Larsa’s sternum that sent her flying back, the broadsword being freed from its wound in the process. She bounced off the ground like a pebble skipping through water and struggled to stand when she stopped, the wind knocked completely out of her.

  Ilja, who had gotten back on his feet by now, hesitated to do anything.

  “Fuck, if this is anything like before, nothing I can form will do shit to that thing!”

  “Your weapons may not have a magical force to pierce its hide, but there are still softer parts to aim for! The eyes or ears, for example!”

  Holly yelled back at Ilja while clapping her hands, six shurikens of ice forming around her. They launched towards the Yowie, who used its shoulder to charge straight through them, blood spurting as they embedded into the limb!

  “It's just taking our attacks willingly!” Holly thought to herself as she touched the ground and caused it to turn into a small stretch of ice in a straight line.

  The Sasquatch slipped as soon as its foot touched, tumbling into a heap and stopping its momentum dead. As it struggled to get back to a base with its still-slippery feet, it turned its head toward the sound of whirring.

  In his hands, Ilja clutched a minigun, which had begun its slow rotation to rev up!

  “I'm sure as hell not accurate enough to hit the eyes normally, but with hundreds of rounds in seconds, I'm sure I'll manage to get lucky!”

  The gun blasted out an onslaught of ammunition, many of which peppered the Yowie’s face before it got its hands up to block the rounds. It screeched in fury and agony, reacting to the assault much as an ordinary human would to being swarmed and stung by bees.

  It flailed a bit before punching into the earth, shattering the ice beneath it. It rooted its hand around inside the earth before finding the leverage it sought. With great effort, it uprooted the ground into an earthen projectile that was almost like a wave of sand!

  Holly dodged out of the way, but Ilja was unable to ditch his unwieldy and large weapon fast enough and was buried beneath the torrent!

  “No!” Holly cried out as Ilja was enveloped out of her sight—a rare mistake from her out of concern.

  The monster dove towards her and swept her legs out from underneath her before clutching hold of her thigh! It raised her upside down in front of it, and in a chilling display of intelligent cruelty, tightened its grip with a smile on its face until a snap could be heard!

  Holly’s pained scream rang out, loud enough that you could hear it from the very top of Ayers Rock. She attempted to fire some spell or other, but, from her awkward position and in immense pain, it harmlessly sprayed onto the ground.

  “YOU!”

  The Yowie turned to Larsa, who had recovered and was now standing across from it. Her hands around her weapon were visibly shaking, and the veins in her arms bulged from tension.

  The monster chortled before slinging Holly over its shoulder like she was garbage as far as it was concerned. She landed face down, her leg at an unnatural angle.

  “I'm not going to feel bad for this in the slightest…” Larsa’s voice had taken on an uncharacteristically dark tone for her.

  “Putting down wild and dangerous animals, supernatural or not, isn’t something to take joy in. The instinct to survive and continue their species is all that commands them.”

  Her eyes looked past the monster to the woman it had maimed.

  “You are smart enough to lay a trap, spiteful enough to want to make your opponent suffer rather than finish her off. You've graduated from an animal to a villain, and I will cut you down where you stand!”

  With a mighty yell, Larsa charged forward, her enhancement magic making her broadsword glow a deeper azure than it ever had before!

  The Yowie was about to do the same. But it couldn't. It glanced down, panicked at its feet, which had completely frozen up to the ankles! Holly’s last move had revealed its true intended purpose!

  With bloodshot eyes, the monster prepared to intercept Larsa’s attack with its fist as it had done before, only for another presence to make itself known once again.

  “Aim for something soft, huh? You earned this one, you overgrown monkey.”

  Ilja had dug himself up from his burial site, and now, splayed on his stomach, he was aiming a mounted sniper rifle! His target? Something low…very low.

  The shot rang out, and the Yowie let out its most pained sound yet, a whimper of misery and sorrow as it clutched its groin region.

  Now unable to move or counter-attack, there was only one fate left for the Sasquatch.

  Larsa swung her blade with ferocity straight into the monster's neck! Even unprotected against a weapon with enhancement magic, the beast's skin was still thick enough that it took a second, and an emphatic third consecutive swing immediately after to decapitate it.

  As the hairy and headless corpse toppled over, Larsa rushed to the side of her injured compatriot, Ilja limping slowly behind her while covered head to toe in dirt.

  Carefully, Larsa flipped Holly onto her back, the mousy woman grimacing in pain. It was plainly obvious that something was broken, yet that wasn't the first concern the ice mage voiced.

  “We did it…but now…we’re in no shape to get that last monster.”

  Before Larsa had a chance to respond, Ilja, who had caught up to them, voiced her own thoughts for her.

  “Screw it. It's better for us to fail than not get you medical attention straight away. The healing magic in the infirmary is supposed to be so good that you should be up and ready to go again tomorrow.”

  He winced a tad as he turned around to face away from the girls.

  “I'll send up one of those magic flares so the Inquisitor will send someone out to pick us up. No shot in hell, Holly can focus enough to use Procul on her own with her leg like that.”

  With that, he began to move a tad closer to the base of Ayers Rock to begin the process of using another basic spell, Subitis, which would launch a flare visible only to humans that possessed magic.

  Once he was out of earshot, the women started a new conversation.

  “He's nicer than he pretends to be, isn't he? Doesn't even want to mention he's nearly as banged up as you.”

  “Take it from me, the people with the coldest outsides are usually doing so to hide how warm they are inside. It's not surprising for an ex-military man to be like that.”

  They both let out a light laugh, Holly despite the pain. Larsa stopped when she noticed a moving object overhead. It had wings and was circling them, a bird, quite large for one to boot.

  “Looks like a vulture, must be waiting for us to leave so it can dig into the kangaroo and Sasquatch corpses.”

  Holly immediately turned a ghastly pale shade. At first, Larsa was nervous she might be going into shock, but the next words that came out of her mouth caused the swordswoman’s own heart rate to spike.

  “Larsa, there aren’t any vultures in Australia.”