Phanya cut a direct path in Salazar's general direction, scattering expensive lab equipment as she vaulted over or slid across any obstruction. Now that she no longer worried about keeping quiet, Phanya could cross the wide room in a few seconds and she found Salazar tucked away in the far corner. It looked like Tapper had hastily tried to hide him in an isolated cubicle before leaving to check on Phanya, but the slow swarm of smaller gremlins had found the bedridden mercenary all the same. So far only a handful of anklebiters had entered the cubicle and Salazar was holding them back by swinging the medical drone's spindle in wide arcs to push the monsters away, but the flimsy pole made for a poor weapon and it was only a matter of time before tooth and claw overwhelmed him.

  Salazar didn't react when Phanya bounded over the dividing wall and crushed a gremlin beneath her heels. He didn't say anything as she darted around the small space, flinging and kicking the little monsters out of arm's reach. Only once the threat reduced down to a single gremlin, that Salazar had backed into a corner by bopping it over and over with the spindle, did Phanya notice the strange noises coming through his gas mask. At first Phanya assumed Salazar was too busy grunting with effort to talk, but now it sounded more like he was choking on something.

  "Sal! Did a gremlin get you? ...Salazar?"

  "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" he finally barked, punctuating every word with another smack on the little monster. "One payday! I just wanted ONE payday to work out, and now I'm going to die down here!"

  Phanya finally recognized the thick quality under Salazar's words: he was choking back tears. "Whoa, hey man!" she said, grabbing the spindle when Salazar reared back for another swing. "You're okay Sal, no one is dying down here today."

  He gave her a long, unreadable look and harrumphed. "Easy for you to say. The bot just ditched me here."

  "To save you," Phanya corrected, as she wheeled the gurney out of the cubicle and into the open. "Look, he's still taking on the big beast by himself!" She threw her good arm towards the battle above their heads, just in time to see the white ribbon of magic drillbits wink out of existence. Tapper wailed in the sudden silence, Salazar twisted in his seat to glare at Phanya, and Phanya groaned.

  [MP: 0/12]

  [Spell component Drill has fizzled!]

  Tapper tried.

  Raging emotions shrank his thoughts into a pinpoint, bringing a clarity of thought that made holding the spell effortless. Tapper stopped calculating vectors, he stopped assessing threats, and he stopped caring about being careful. Nothing mattered except retribution against the monster that hurt his friend, feeding a deep emotional need to destroy.

  Then, he hit the wall. Tapper felt his mana run out before he saw the notification, and for a brief eternity his consciousness hovered on indecision. He knew that a secondary source of power lay beneath his mana, something deeper and far more powerful, but also just as unknowable. Tapper knew he could draw from it since he already had at least once before, and he suspected this well of power played into his fight against Fairbanks. But his instincts — his instincts, not the external influence from the system — feared this power. As if no one was meant to draw from this well, and doing so risked irreparable damage to his being.

  Tapper faltered. He didn't end the magic and he didn't dive deeper to feed it, and for his hesitation the spell fizzled without destroying the beguiler. It still hovered in the air, slowly spinning with the last remnants of momentum from Tapper's spell to showcase his damage. Countless deep red gashes crisscrossed its raw, ragged skin and several tattered tentacles flopped in the wind without an eye or a gem left on its tip. A spark in Tapper's mind hoped that he had at least killed the monster, but a quick scroll of his recent notifications refused to give him the good news. All his power and rage against such an abomination, and Tapper merely stunned it.

  From somewhere in the distance Phanya's voice rang out. "Ricky! Whatever you're going to do, do it now!" she shouted, and Tapper nearly fell off of his perch. When did Ricky get here?

  "I'm working on it!" Ricky yelled back. He shuffled forward at an awkward gait, keeping one eye out to avoid gremlins while he frantically twisted his invention's key. If he wasn't careful then Ricky could accidentally trigger the spell early on an anklebiter, forcing him to start the setup over. Maybe designing the artifact to only hold one strong shot per spellcast wasn't smart in hindsight, but he couldn't go back now.

  [Equipment]

  [Lance-a-Lot

  Magical | Medium | Sharp | Reach | 1d6 damage

  Reach: Effective melee range for weapon is increased by 1 meter

  Martial Maneuver – Serrated Bite: Guarantee a bleed effect on the next successful attack.

  Artificer Spell – Split: Spell die (1d3) is added to the next weapon attack and damage check, which is then Split and applied (1d3 + 3d4) times to target per degree of success from the attack check. Minimum 1 damage per instance.]

  This was the tool for the job and Ricky left behind everything else, even his shield, since he knew that using a medium weapon with two hands made it more effective. Somehow. But despite his doubts, the simple fact that the system treated his invention like a proper weapon for the first time filled Ricky with excitement. So many new terms, so many new questions! He just had to not die before he could properly study them.

  Ricky stepped into a wider aisle running down the middle when the spell activated, lining up to the monster overhead in its dazed spin. A mental command activated the Serrated Bite maneuver, and this time Ricky felt the response pulse mingle and grow with the magic stored for his spell. The potential thrumming within his invention tugged a determined grimace from Ricky as he charged down the room, building up momentum until he could activate his suit's maneuver. Power Lift launched Ricky with all the grace of a brick, sailing over the last few rows with the minimum arc needed to meet the floating monster.

  Ricky managed to see his lance pierce the target before the rest of him collided and he got a faceful of gremlin skin. He couldn't see anything, but he felt all the energy stored in his weapon slam into the beguiler and ripple across its body. It roared with pain and Ricky tried to disengage, but his lance refused to pull out. He couldn't lose his first true weapon, not like this!

  Wrapping his free hand around a nearby tentacle for leverage, Ricky braced his feet against the soft flesh and kept pulling. Even as countless pinpricks all over the beguiler's flesh erupted from his spell as miniature bleed effects, small and plentiful enough for the fountains to mist everything in slick blood. Beneath all the terror, part of Ricky wished he could study the results from a proper vantage point.

  He bet it looked awesome.

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  "What in the hell is that dumbass doing?" Phanya asked.

  She and Salazar had joined Tapper on the floor, and the three stared up at the absurd display without an answer. The beguiler roiled within a growing red cloud as it bucked and rolled, but it mostly fought to keep afloat as Ricky and his heavy exosuit threw it off balance. Their erratic flight bounced around the room, knocking over equipment and leaving behind bright red smears wherever they touched.

  Salazar suddenly pointed at them and shouted, "It's shifting! I can see its mouth getting closer to the kid, it's going to eat him!"

  Phanya didn't question him, and she didn't waste time trying to yell for Ricky's attention. "Tapper, stun it again! Even if you tag Ricky too!"

  "I, I can't! I'm sorry, but my Suck program fizzled out!"

  She heard the clear anguish in Tapper's voice, but she didn't have time to console him. Phanya just grabbed Tapper by a back panel and yanked him along, ignoring Salazar's yells as she charged towards the fight. "Don't worry about it Taps, just drag him off!" Her movements grew erratic to match the beguiler as she tried to map out its movements, placing them in just the right place at the right time. "And jump… now!"

  Tapper felt the intent behind Phanya's words and his legs responded to her words without his conscious input. He sprang upwards as Ricky swung downwards and the two met, wrapping all six limbs around Ricky's torso for stability.

  "Damnit, what now?" Ricky shouted, squinting down through the red mist spraying in his face. "...Tapper?"

  "Ricky! You must release, lest the beguiler consume you!"

  Ricky strained to understand what Tapper meant, since he recalled stabbing the monster in its back, and he readjusted to see an open maw slowly tearing across its bloody flesh. Teeth suddenly sprouted around his lance and bit down, scraping against the smooth curve of its handguard. But the maneuver also loosened its hold on his weapon and Ricky pulled again, fueled by a panic to get away from the disgusting mouth, and with a wet gurgle it started to slide out.

  The tension vanished all at once, and the next thing Ricky knew he was on the floor with Tapper and Phanya hovering over his face.

  "Ricky! Does any of this copious blood belong inside you?" Tapper asked.

  "No, no I think I'm good," Ricky slowly answered. His hands were sore and bruised, but he still felt the lance's handle in his right hand and Ricky softly smiled to himself. He did it, for once. But he also felt something in his left hand, and he gingerly held it up to see the tattered remains of a tentacle wrapped around his grip. A pale blue gemstone still clung to one end, sparkling with unnatural clarity in the faint light.

  Ricky suddenly jerked up to a sitting position, too distracted to notice his friends falling backwards. "Hell yeah, even scored some loot!" he cheered, holding up both hands in celebration. His smile only lasted until Ricky realized that his lance had actually broken in the middle, snapping off at the pole right where the handguard ended. "...Damnit! Again! Where'd the knife go?" A gentle hand on his shoulder stopped Ricky's frantic searching, and he looked up to see Phanya and Tapper staring at the beguiler.

  Watching gremlins eat technology is always an uneasy sight to behold, but watching this giant gremlin attempt to eat Ricky's blade froze the onlookers without using its gemstone gaze. Every time it chomped down the blade pierced it from the inside and sliced off another sliver of skin, but the beguiler either wouldn't or couldn't stop chewing. It audibly swallowed when the largest flesh chunk plopped to the ground, giving everyone a horrifying view of the ground meat and liquid metal veins writhing inside. The veins sprang outwards like a coiled snake and twisted copies of Ricky's knife sprouted all over the beguiler's body, each blade larger and more wicked than the last.

  "Is it… growing?" Ricky breathed.

  "Retreat! Its metamorphosis nears completion!" Tapper shouted, shaking the other two out of their stupor and they scrambled back to Salazar's location.

  Phanya tried to keep the panic out of her voice and asked, "What's left? We've thrown everything at it!"

  Ricky presented the gemstone in his hand again and rattled, "Maybe throw its own skrat back at it, somehow? Shock it, burn it, freeze it…"

  "The door is open, let's just run!" Salazar begged.

  Inspiration struck Tapper and his eyes lit up. "Fire! Thank you Ricky, please stand well back." Before anyone could ask any questions Tapper ran back to the open space, where the beguiler had started to slam its body against anything and everything nearby. He couldn't tell if the monster was impaling machinery and smaller gremlins on its spikes out of pain, confusion, or anger; but the end result was the same, and he pushed aside his customer analytics. Tapper unlatched his drill hand at the wrist and grasped it to his arm, bracing himself to take a chance.

  "Vile thing! Your reign of bloody rain ends here!" he shouted, directly challenging the beguiler for the second time. Somehow it heard him but Tapper averted his eyes from the gleaming gem, and snapped his fingers to expose the lighter on his right thumb. Tapper still felt anger at the monster for harming his friend, but knowing how badly this was going to hurt prevented the anger from completely clouding his vision. He dug deep and intoned, "Make do until you get due. By the pricking of my thumb, SPRAY upon this evil scum!"

  Mana ground against servomotors. The spell ran against the system's cadence, but his Witchcraft instincts insisted that it felt correct. The magic circle snapped into shape and drank from Tapper's deeper reserves, fueling itself in a way that left a void behind. A small spot of nothing, hollow and cold.

  Whatever implications that carried sank under the pain as Tapper's spell raked along his insides, scraping out his oil with more force than any other time Tapper attempted to spray his fluids. A slick black jet shot out of his wrist mount and through the exposed flame, lighting a trail of liquid fire directly into the charging beguiler. It tried to brake and bank away from the new death beam instead of colliding with him, and its own hesitation gave Tapper ample opportunity to coat the monster in burning napalm before the spell ended.

  [Injury: Manaburn 1

  Your soul inches closer to oblivion. Spell attempts take a -1 penalty and cost 1 additional mana per cast.]

  [Injury: Low Oil

  Don't run dry, or you'll rust in the rain. -1 Dexterity until lubrication is refilled.]

  [Wounds: ????]

  His customer analytics made note of the irony as Tapper fell to his knees, struggling to reattach his drill hand with shaking limbs. Everything felt stiff, physically and metaphorically, but he found a cold comfort that his pain dwarfed against the monster's hellish torture above. It roiled and rolled in the throes of primal panic, unable to douse the flames as it wailed in anguish. Finally, the monster hit its breaking point and fled by taking the shortest, surest path away from the superior predator. It rocketed straight upwards, crashing through the ceiling as if it were made out of plaster and foil.

  Tapper felt hands on his shoulders as Phanya and Ricky yanked him back, pulling everyone clear from the destruction. Support beams twisted and metal cracked as the ceiling crumbled, falling away in long chunks to expose the floor above. An avalanche of light and sound followed after and filled the space, acrid black gunpowder swirling in the hectic fight between raiders and security drones. After a beat of stunned silence the flaming beguiler added a new layer of chaos and all weapons turned on it, though the party couldn't tell if all the bullets and lasers even registered to the monster. It spun around once before its maw opened wide and lunged at the nearest threat, tackling a raider just outside of their vision.

  "Maybe we should just wait here for a bit," Ricky eventually said, when he couldn't stand the sound of crunching bones and frantic screams any longer. "You know, to loot the place?"

  "This whole place can go to hell," Salazar grumbled as he fiddled with his personal display. "Makenna, are you there? Get ready for — "

  "Thank Fairgood!" Makenna's voice suddenly shouted from Tapper's bowtie. Salazar, wearing the only other radio in his ear, winced at the shrill sound. "No one was answering, I thought you all sold out! It's frickin' crazy out here!"