Like Karl and Yuth before her, Merritt struggled to understand what she was seeing. Even so, she had no doubts about the nature of what happened next.

Disaster transcends language.

Floating mountains clustered together like lily pads on a pond, with one rising up taller than the rest. A spectacular tower descended from its underside, looking like a bundle of spears the way its many roofs pointed at the distant ground. The top of the mountain had been beheaded, the rock cut flat and polished to an anti-shine. Ramps and other walkways pitted its smooth surface. Merritt guessed they led down to the tower, but she couldn't be sure.

In the middle of the flatness, there stood a great Ring, a door knocker to shake worlds. The Ring was made from a solid, glassy substance. Pale wisps eddied within it, either inside its surface, or in the volume within.

A broad, frustum—a headless pyramid—supported the Ring's base, carved from the rock itself. It was several times the size of the winged foxes gathered around it, and bore steps for them to ascend. Their many eyes stared at the sky through the Ring, the crowd's many heads speaking with vigorously and excitement, not that she understood anything beyond their tone.

A massive fox emerged from one of the ramps. The crowd parted, clearing a path for him. The fox had a mountain of heads—a bouquet; Merritt counted eight, though many more were budding from its neck and shoulders.

The other foxes fell silent as the great one walked up to the frustum. The symbols inscribed on his wings glowed in many colors as he spread them wide and stepped up the headless pyramid. With great ceremony and tail upturned, he pressed a paw on a shallow recess at its top.

Light spread from the point of contact, streaming out from the seams between the blocks that had been assembled to make the Ring. The light spread further, illuminating angular channels carved into the mountain's flattened crown. The current's veins flowed through the stone and down the tower's height, building into a swirling orb at the tip of the tower's tallest peak.

The orb flashed, and fired out a beam of light. The impact spread cracks through the earth where it struck the ground, far below. Something within the earth responded, returning the current in a brilliant amber blast, many times its strength. The upward rush of power raced back up the mountain, through the channels on its flattened top, and into the Ring.

A quivering, transcendental surface filled the Ring's hollow. It fluctuated like a pond beneath a breeze. All around, the foxes howled, raising their wings and howled in triumph, except for the great one, who slowly stepped through the portal.

Crack.

A hairline fracture shot across the portal's surface the instant the great fox's snout touched it. The others lower their tails and wings, pressing their ears against their heads.

They staggered back.

The great fox's body flickered in and out of being.

In the blink of an eye, dozens more cracks appeared in the portal. Energies licked through the breaks like fire.

The foxes turned around and ran. They clambered over one another, crashing, fumbling, flailing limbs and wings.

Then the portal exploded, shattering like a porthole on a submarine. Darkness and prismatic fire streamed out, instead of the almighty sea. The deluge happened so quickly and so completely that by the time Merritt realized what had happened, everything was already gone.

And there, the vision ended.

Karl, Yuth, and Merritt's visions all ended as suddenly as they began, not that any of them were aware of what the others had seen. For Karl, the only thing he was aware of as his vision came to an end was the painful experience of slamming his snout onto the marble floor. The impact made Karl's vision flash. He blinked his eyes and shook his head until the lights had gone away, just in time to look up in awestruck terror as the winged fox with its three heads and their burning eyes spread its glorious wings and leapt into flight, with patches of darkness writhing over its body.

Karl flinched as the fox hit the ceiling, but instead of crashing through it, the parts of the ceiling it touched simply vanished, as did the rooms and halls above it, all the way through to the rooftop above. Debris rained down as portions of the building collapsed, their structural supports no longer extant, clonking Karl on the head and shattering pottery and furniture. He whipped up a forcefield overhead to block the worst of the debris and then slithered up to Dr. Rathpalla, who lay sprawled along the marble, covering him with his shield.

Other wyrms shouted as they broke into the room through other doors and hallways. One by one, they looked up, gazing at Elpeck's night sky through the broken ceiling. There were gasps as the fox soared toward the skyline. Out of the corners of his back eyes, Karl watched the fox shoot energy beams from its third eyes. The beams' afterimages flared so brightly in Karl's eyes. Their power dwarfed the flower-ships' death rays, but that was all the attention Karl cared to give it, and immediately returned his focus to where it mattered: Dr. Rathpalla.

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He was sick. Really sick. Oily fluid ran down his flanks, forming a pool on the marble around him whose edges bubbled and hissed, glowing in many colors as they evaporated into nothing.

But most of all, Karl saw the terror in his eyes.

Dr. Rathpalla pulled away. He flopped back into a corner, spreading his claws at Karl.

"G-Get away. It's not safe! It—it did something to me. Connected to me."

Karl felt Geoffrey's spirit float up and press his hand on his scaly shoulder.

"Karl…"

Meanwhile, Jonan looked on in devastation.

But Karl couldn't bear to reply. He scooted toward Dr. Rathpalla, only to stop and shudder when the psychiatrist recoiled from him.

"I said get away!"

"We'll find a way to fix this," Karl said.

Dr. Rathpalla laughed dreadfully. "Fix it? Fix it!?" He laughed again, and then looked up in despair while pointing a claw at the sky. "Did you see that? Did you!?"

"I saw it in a vision," Merritt said. "But, for there to be one here…?"

Yuth nodded. "I had a vision, too."

Not knowing how to explain it, Karl, Yuth, and Merritt sang the experiences directly into the other wyrms' minds, letting their visions speak for themselves.

By the end, Karl was coiled onto the floor like a frightened snake, holding his head close to the ground.

No. No…!

He'd never felt so afraid.

Dr. Rathpalla looked up at the sky and sang a mournful, wordless melody. Karl couldn't help but shiver at the way the edges of his sounds were distorting and twisting, just like Larry's had.

"I was a fool! Genneth was a fool! We're all fools! Don't you get it, this is the end! It's the end of you, the end of me, the end of everything! I'm going to die! Look at me, I'm already dying! And if you don't get away, I'll take you with me!"

"Who will help me once you're gone!?" Karl cried.

"I will," Geoffrey said. "You can count on it."

Karl yelled back: "But what if it isn't enough?!"

"If ever there was a time for therapy, this ain't it!" Heggy yelled. "We need a battle plan. I don't like what's happened to our world, and I sure as hell don't want to find out what that monster is gonna do to it!"

Merritt shook her head. "Dr. Marteneiss is right." Mrs. Elbock pointed up at the fox, even though it had already passed out of sight. "We can't just let it run amok. Who knows what it will do?"

"Nothin' good," Dr. Marteneiss replied, "that's for fuckin' sure."

"There's a bigger problem," Mr. Elbock said, materializing beside his wife. He glanced up at her. "Merritt, when you were having your visions, you were gone."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Geoffrey nodded solemnly. "The same happened to young Karl."

"What?" Karl asked.

"You were in a trance. You slumped over like a dead soldier." He clenched his fists and looked down in dismay. "I was terribly worried."

Storn crossed his arms. "You're telling me!"

"It looks like all of us were out of commission," Yuth said.

Jonan looked up at the Night. "It must have been the freakin' fox thing."

"So, what do we do?" Dr. Nowston asked.

Dr. Rathpalla moaned. "You're fools, all of you. This—"

Jonan stepped forward. "—Apologies Dr. Rathpalla, but I beg to differ. We already know that there's more to this than meets the eye. You saw what Yuth saw." Jonan pointed at Nurse Costran. "This thing is sentient. Sapient. Just because something looks like a monster, that doesn't mean it is one!" His lips trembled. "Ani certainly knew that well enough; she was able to see something good even in me."

"This is the stuff of gods and demons," Karl said. "You'd have to be mad to think there's anything we can do."

Karl didn't have any hope left to spend, and that lack hurt him more than any pain he'd ever known.

"No," Bever said, "not mad, just stubborn." He lifted his axe, letting it come to rest on his shoulder."

Dr. Derric was crying now, tears openly streaming down his face. Karl knew he was thinking of Ani, and everything she'd ever exhorted him to think, or be, or do.

"You've seen what happens when we blindly accept the stories we've been given," Jonan said. "And yes, Angel's ass, we make plenty of mistakes—and that's how we get better. It's the only way." He nodded. "Heggy and Mrs. Elbock are right. We have to do something about this, and all we have to go by is our sense of reason. We don't have myths for this. There are no prophecies. But we're not going to learn anything by burying our heads in the sand."

"I… I agree," Karl said.

"Alright," Bever said, "so what's the plan?"

There was a moment of silence, during which Geoffrey looked up at the sky. Flower ships were approaching, no doubt drawn by the fox. "I think I have one," he said.

"Suggest away, sir knight," Mr. Elbock said.

"We'd be fools not to request the assistance of the other wyrms scattered across the city. Even if they do not wish to fight, they can do reconnaissance for us. That will be essential. A soldier must know how to strike before he can hope to make a difference."

Dr. Marteneiss clicked her tongue and smirked. "Don't forget about the nukes."

Jonan cupped his hands and started applauding. "Oh my fuck, yes! Do that! Do it!"

Dr. Marteneiss nodded, eyebrows peaked. "I told y'all they'd come in handy."

Yuth slithered forward. "What do we do if we have more visions? If that happens in the middle of a fight, we'll be sitting ducks!"

Jonan smirked. "Actually, I have an idea about that."

"Yes, Dr. Derric?" Dr. Nowston asked.

"Let us do it." He pointed at himself, and then at Dr. Marteneiss.

"Do what?" Merritt asked.

"Why not give us permission to use your bodies in case you end up going AWOL for some reason. I mean, you've already lent your powers to us." He glanced at Geoffrey and Bever. "Just take that one step further."

Dr. Marteneiss stared at Jonan as if he was out of his mind.

"Did you get some kind of posthumous head injury, Dr. Derric?" Heggy asked. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

But Dr. Nowston shook his head. "No, he has a point. I don't see why we can't transfer knowledge of our bodies and abilities to our spirits, along with the 'permission' they needed to use them in our stead." He stared at the beast in the sky. "For those of us without combat experience, it might even be preferable."

Jonan looked up at the full Moon rising through the Night. His expressions tensed. "To tell you the truth, I also just really wanna fuck shit up." He sniffled as tears trickled down his cheeks. "These monsters took away my soul mate." He shook his head. "What I wouldn't give for a chance for some payback."

"Amen to that," Heggy muttered.

Jonan cracked his knuckles. "Okay then," he said, "I call dibs."

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