#!plot

Sir Pentious,

Thank you for your letter. Forgive me if I'm more reserved in mine than you were in yours. Allow me to reassure you, with my deepest regrets, that it’s not because my opinion of you has changed. However, under the current circumstances, I think it’s better for us both if I err on the side of too much restraint rather than too little.

Since your letter reached me safely, I’m sure you’re already aware that I am currently at Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony, and will be for the foreseeable future. If you want to see me, I’m available at your convenience. Rosie knows to expect you. I trust you won’t be coming over to eat, but I would still appreciate enough advanced notice to ensure I can make myself presentable.

You’re quick to grab the Crosshairs, falling back towards the transportalizer. If trouble is coming, your first priority is getting your pets out safely. Even if things are... complicated, with Kipper currently, this is still what the both of you agreed on. You won’t strand your furrets without someone trusted to take care of them.

Kat follows, first to recognize where you’re headed, and in another moment Fex follows, the pair of them walking anxious circles on the pad and chattering.

Then they both fall silent, and neither of them move.

The cave shakes.

The cliff shakes, and as you hurriedly type and retype coordinates so they’re correct, you can hear stone ripping apart and the sound of something unbelievably heavy fall and hit the ground below. It’s close. You can see the walls of your hive already beginning to crack.

Something... someone outside is... screaming?

Goddesses.

They switched the Pyrope out for another daywalker.

You send Kat and Fex off and, fuck it, you are not staying to see whatever is causing this. Whatever weapon they have, you don’t want to know, you refuse to find out, you are setting this transportalizer to explode and running--

The entire top of your cave is ripped away.

It isn’t a daywalker at all.

It’s a rustblood, bundled in gear that will do practically nothing to protect them from the suns, wavering from their position up in the air. They’re alone? They tore apart this cliff, in daylight, by themself??

No wonder they’ve been screaming.

And now they see you, and drop from the sky to attack.

Under their robes they unfurl metal cables, lassos that you won’t be able to break out of once caught. Only you won’t be caught. You are the daywalker here, this is your home, and you have Ahab’s godsdamned Crosshairs. Whoever this troll is and why they’re so determined doesn’t matter for shit. One pull of the trigger is all you need and they’re inciner--

The Crosshairs are yanked out of your hands and flung out into the wilderness.

You’re fucked.

The rustblood wavers, though, obviously in pain. The cables fall. This is the moment you break into a sprint, running for the chiming transportalizer. In just another moment, it detonates, and no one can follow.

You’re entering coords when your leg is caught.

Cables yank back one, two, three of your arms.

A fucking rock hits the back of your head, and your vision spins.

There’s only two digits left. Two digits and you’ll disappear. You fight back, scrabbling as you try to drag to drag yourself along the cave floor. They’re throwing more rocks, tightening the cables’ hold on your limbs until you almost can’t breathe from the pain, until you see green soaking into your torn sleeves. But you keep trying, trying to do better than psionics, and the transportalizer is so close. It’s right there. You can make it.

Except, well.