#armogan

On days like this, swaddled in layers of slapdash illusions so thick that no living thing could ever hope to see him, the operative almost didn’t mind his job.

He didn’t know what kind of universe this was, what the rules were and how hidden he needed to be—this assignment had quite literally been thrown at him as soon as he returned to Sinemopolis.  But he knew that something dangerous had gotten loose here that he needed to take care of.  A rosenmole.

One of the few creatures that could naturally travel between universes, rosenmoles were voracious predators that ate everything in sight.  He’d fought one once when he was younger: it had torn a hole through his shoulder and thrown him into a new universe, leaving him stranded for months until another operative found him by chance.  The operative didn’t know how big the creature was, or how much of a threat it would be, but he did know this—