Gallio looked like New Haven—if New Haven weren't drowning in an ocean of sadness and perpetual depression. The streets were clean, the buildings stood firm, and rain gutters actually did their job. It had the makings of an ideal haven, a place someone could settle down in.
But it wasn't perfect.
Unlike New Haven, Gallio had no working electricity grid. Once night fell, the entire city was swallowed by darkness. Which meant they needed to kill this thing before sundown.
"Might move here after I retire," Theresa mused.
She wore the standard exterminator overcoat, though only on one arm, letting the other sleeve dangle at her side. A dark spotted sports bra peeked from beneath, and her steel-framed, boxy glasses shielded her eyes from the sun.
Strapped to her back was a large shield—a striking silver with sharp, blade-like edges curving around its circumference.
"After you retire, huh?" Ansel muttered, watching people come and go through the haven gates.
Theresa didn't respond, instead shifting her gaze to Vladimir, who stood bobbing his head to music, completely in his own world.
She sighed, then grabbed both of his arms with one hand and yanked his headphones down with the other.
Vladimir reacted instantly, his free hand twitching toward his weapon—exactly what she expected.
"What?" he said dryly.
"This is a T-level four we're dealing with." She tightened her grip. "Do you want to get the kid killed?"
"I've fought a T-level three before." Ansel crossed his arms. "Not alone, but I've done it."
"It's not the same thing, kid," Theresa replied, Ansel's face reflecting in her glasses. "Might just be one number to you, but the jump is astronomical. Their skin? Hard as steel. Harder, even."
"He survived Raval, didn't he?" Vladimir said, already stepping into the city. "He'll be fine. Plus, you're here—"
"And I should be getting paid more," Theresa grumbled, following behind him.
"You won't," Sabrina's voice crackled over the comms, still slightly unsteady. "Vladimir, have you reached Gallio?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I just got off a call with one of the leaders. There's a navigator waiting for you in the city center. He'll take you to the supposed myutant nest. Name's Ryan Althof. Just get there—he'll find you."
"Understood." Vladimir glanced back at the others as the call cut off. "Well, you heard her. Steel your nerves—we're going spider hunting."
Except they weren't.
At least, not for the next two hours.
They stood at a cross-junction in the middle of Gallio, where the streets split deeper into the haven. Houses lined both sides, their windows flickering with candlelight and oil lamps as night settled in.
"Should we just get an inn?" Theresa said, arms crossed. "Doesn't seem like this navigator is coming."
"Sabrina said she'd contact him again," Ansel turned. "I wonder what's taking so long?"
"The president's probably baby food by now," Vladimir said, stretching as he stood from a bench. "Let's go find that inn and try again tomorrow, maybe if we're lucky we can find his bones."
"You the exterminators from New Haven?"
They turned toward the voice—a young man, fresh-faced, not much older than Ansel.
"And you are?" Theresa asked, unimpressed.
"Ryan Althof," he said. "Sabrina told me you'd be waiting."
"Yeah, for two hours," Theresa scoffed. "You better have a damn good excuse before I beat the hell out of you."
"I got lost," Ryan admitted, rubbing the back of his head.
"Aren't you supposed to be a navigator?" Theresa narrowed her eyes. "How the hell do you get lost?"
"I know the depths like the back of my hand. Gallio, not so much." He sighed. "Still, I apologize for my lateness."
Theresa turned to Vladimir. "What now?"
"We don't have a choice. We'll have to fight in the dark," Vladimir muttered. "Get moving, navigator. You already wasted half our time."
"Yes, sir!" Ryan said, hastily leading the way.
"I swear, if I get eaten because I couldn't fucking see..." Theresa grumbled, following behind him. "Kill him for me, V!"
"Understood," Vladimir deadpanned.
"Wait, that's not fair," Ryan protested. "I apologized, didn't I?"
"Kill him for me, V!" Theresa repeated, ignoring him.
"Understood,"
Ansel watched them as they walked. Their personalities were... different. Much different from anyone he'd met before. But then again, considering he'd spent most of his time with the overconfident Dahlia and the perpetually silent Massiah, maybe this was normal.
With a quiet sigh, he picked up his pace, falling in step behind them.
The depths were silent, the only sound the whisper of sand shifting in the wind. They had passed through the haven gates about ten minutes ago, trudging through the barren terrain as night came over them.
"How much farther?" Theresa muttered, glancing around. The haven gates had long since disappeared behind them, swallowed by the darkness.
"Not much," Ryan said. "Just a few more minutes."
Ansel, who had been silent for most of the trip, finally spoke. "How'd you end up a navigator?"
Ryan turned his head slightly, surprised the kid was even engaging. "My dad had tracker hounds. Big ones. He was blind, so they helped him get around."
They walked on, sand tumbling beneath their boots, dust stirring into the cool night air.
Ryan continued, "I got interested in how they did it—how they never got lost, always knew exactly where they were going. Thought it was kinda fascinating."
"That's a weird thing to be into," Theresa muttered.
Ryan smirked. "And wanting to fight monsters for a living isn't?"
Theresa shrugged, the silver shield on her back bobbing as she moved. "I couldn't afford a house on a waitress's salary. Figured this was the next best thing."
Ryan glanced between Ansel and Vladimir. "What about you guys?"
Vladimir turned. "Sabrina was persuasive."
"I needed a place to stay," Ansel muttered.
The conversation lulled, the mood dipping into something dull. Ryan had expected exterminators to have more thrilling backstories—some deep sense of duty, a heroic calling. But it was just... life. Difficult, messy, and full of compromises.
He exhaled, realizing they still had a ways to go before reaching the nest. The sand pit wasn't even in sight yet.
He needed to lighten the mood. Somehow.
"So," Ryan said, a sly grin forming, "what's your type?"
Theresa blinked. "In what? Weapons?"
"No, in a partner." He smirked. "I like tall women. Nothing like a tree to climb, you know?"
Theresa chuckled. "I get that. Something about a tall woman just hits different. Plus, the ones I've met have all been pretty nice, good in bed too."
Ryan turned to Ansel. "What about you?"
Ansel hesitated. "Uh... I like women?"
Ryan and Theresa both gave him a blank stare.
Ansel cleared his throat. "I mean, I don't really have a type. As long as she likes me back, that's enough, right?"
"No the hell it isn't." Theresa shook her head. "This is what's wrong with men these days. You don't even know what you want. Look at V—he knows exactly what he's into." She turned toward Vladimir. "Go on, tell him."
"Beautiful. Brunette. Confident." Vladimir said without missing a beat.
Ryan snorted. "Damn, that was quick."
"See?" Theresa smirked, then paused, realization dawning. "Wait... isn't that just Sabrina?"
Vladimir coughed, turning his head slightly. "Huh? What? I didn't say that."
Ryan and Theresa exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.
"Man, you didn't even hesitate," Ryan wheezed. "You said that way too fast."
Theresa grinned, nudging Vladimir with her elbow. "Hey, no shame in it, V. But you better hope Sabrina never hears you say that out loud."
Vladimir rolled his eyes, adjusting his headphones. "You guys are delusional."
Ansel exhaled, relieved the attention had shifted off him. He hadn't expected a casual conversation, much less one about romance, but maybe that was just how these guys dealt with the job. Keep things light when they could.
Ryan turned, a grin still on his face—but something was off. The sand pit that should've been just behind the nest was nowhere in sight.
Had he missed it while they were talking? No. He never took his eyes off the ground.
So where the hell was it?
The earth trembled beneath them, subtle at first, then more pronounced. The sand swelled and dipped, something moving underneath.
Vladimir and Theresa moved instinctively, pressing together and pulling Ansel and Ryan between them.
"What's happening, navigator?" Theresa demanded.
Ryan's eyes darted across the terrain. "I—I don't know. The nest should be ahead. They don't usually leave unless they're hunting, and it raided the haven earlier. It should have had enough to eat, unless—"
His breath hitched.
A realization slamming into him.
Then, without another word, Ryan bolted, his feet kicking up clouds of dust.
"Don't go far!" Vladimir yelled, reaching out.
Ryan ignored him, diving into the sand, clawing at it. His fingers tore through the grains, revealing what lay just beneath.
Eggs.
Dozens of them, massive and gray, fused together by a slick, silver fluid.
"Guys..." Ryan's voice shook, his hands trembling. He turned back, eyes wide with horror.
"We're in its nest!"
The ground split open beneath him. A giant maw erupted from the sand, sharp fangs glistening in the moonlight.
A rush of wind.
A snap.
Ryan was gone.
Ansel barely had time to register what had happened before the ground trembled again.
"What do we do, V?" Theresa barked, stepping in front, her shield raised. "We're in the blast zone—do we run?"
"No point," Vladimir said, pulling his headphones over his ears. His audio pod shifted in his hand as he pressed the skip button.
"I don't think this is the time for—" Ansel started.
"No," Theresa cut in. "This is exactly the time for it."
The myutant burrowed back into the sand, its legs twitching beneath the grains as it clawed its way underneath.
The ground trembled, the clicks and rumbling of sand growing louder. It would surface again soon. And it was dark—too dark to see anything beyond an arm's length.
"Ansel, focus on assisting me," Theresa said, steadying her breath. "That's all you need to do."
"What about Vladimir?"
Vladimir exhaled slowly as his audio pod buzzed to life. A song crackled through his headphones, and his fingers moved to his hips, where two katanas rested in their scabbards.
"We'll match his rhythm," Theresa muttered.
The ground erupted.
The spider lunged upward, its giant form breaking through the surface, its legs flailing.
And Vladimir moved.
His blades caught the moonlight, flashing silver as he drove them into the myutants mouth.
Man and monster soared through the air, locked together.
Glancing up, watching Vladimir struggle midair with the monster, both Theresa and Ansel sprinted across the sand, chasing after them.
"What do you mean?" Ansel asked, his karambits spinning around his fingers as he ran.
"V moves to the rhythm of whatever song he's playing," Theresa explained. "If we can match that rhythm, there's no way in hell we're losing."
"And how the hell are we supposed to know what song he's listening to?"
"That's the neat part," she said. "We don't."
Vladimir jumped off, as the creature fell with a screech, its cry shaking the desert, its legs kicking up waves of sand.
He landed smoothly, blades dripping with blood as the myutant burrowed back underground, its massive body tunneling through the sand.
Ansel turned to Theresa, his face a mix of confusion and frustration. "What the fuck do we do then—"
The ground erupted beneath him.
The myutant struck, the sand splitting open as a enormous maw appeared beneath his feet. Rows of gnashing teeth lined a dark abyss, ready to consume him whole.
Ansel fell fast.
His arms flailing as the myutants jaws began to close, about to tear through him.
"Shewasmorelike a beauty queen from a movie scene—"
Vladimir's voice cut through the chaos, a grin on his face as he dashed forward, his boots kicking up dust.
With a flick of his wrist, he hurled his scabbard, slamming it into Ansel's chest and knocking him clear of the monster's jaws.
"Eighteen... no, twenty beats per ten seconds," Theresa murmured, eyes narrowing as she tracked his movements. "That's a crazy rhythm you've got going, V. But then again..."
She smirked, rolling her shoulders, tightening her grip on the shields strap.
"I don't get paid for nothing now, do I?"