Lesson 35: Friendship Has No Barriers
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“How the bloody hell did we manage to summon Catzilla?” Jack balked, shying away from the gargantuan cat; its shadow loomed over the city, and even the Tower would look like a toy in comparison.

It meowed.

The buildings around them shook, the ground itself clamouring. 

Tittering, Lydia looked away. “I wonder, however could that have happened?”

With a flat stare, Hannah said, “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you being the Bogeymeown.”

Jack gawked at her. “The what?” Shaking his head, he stared back up at Catzilla. “Never mind. The more important question is what to do about that.”

The paw in front of them, large enough its presence crumbled the red brick and stained wood of fences and walls, lifted. A shadow grew larger over them as its descent began, three of four scrambling to escape.

Deftly, Sam flipped away from the falling appendage. He landed as it crashed down, converting bricks into dust and shaking them all from their feet.

Jack caught himself, twisting his left wrist with a grimace. Cradling the injured arm, he looked at Sam with a mixture of disbelief and anger; what the hell was he doing?

Kneeling in front of the paw, Sam had his hands clasped under his chin, muttering to himself.

“What’s that supposed to do, summon an army of angels?! Get serious, dammit!”

Opening one eye, Sam glanced at him. “I’m always serious. Perhaps if God were to send a sign-”

“He’s already sent one: he wants to turn us all into kibble!”

“Hmph,” said Lydia, flying towards the Bakeneko’s face. “This is why you don’t let idiots loose in a crisis.”

She stared into a yellow iris more than five times her size, expression strained as she waved her arms.

Catzilla yowled, thrashing and flailing and baring his fangs. Saliva flew from his mouth, one drop enough to create a new ecology. Spinning his tail, he reared up so he was standing on hind legs, stepping forwards and batting at Lydia.

Each step reduced buildings to rubble, and the shock to the sea meant it had already claimed half the coastline. Around them, pillars of smoke rose.

A distant screeching pierced the air, and the pressure of the Bakeneko’s movement sent Sam sprawling at Jack’s feet.

“How’s the prayer going?”

Dusting himself off, Sam stood up. “I know what I must do.”

Lydia avoided the giant paw, sliding aside with grace. “Just a whisker away,” she said, yelping when its tail came around its body to shoot a humongous fireball at her.

It engulfed her, and she shrieked.

Jack’s heart nestled into his windpipe.

When the flames receded, she was bald, blackened, and charred to a crisp; the whites of her eyes as she blinked were the only indication of anything human.

“Excuse me, Ms…” Sam put a hand to his temple. “Magus!”

She sneered. At least, he thought it was a sneer; it was hard to tell when every part of her looked like a roast chicken someone had forgotten about.

“What do you want, cleric?”

Clearing his throat, Sam hollered, “I’m not a cleric, I’m a Paladin! You should try to limit the damage; Jack and I will take care of the creature.”

She grinned, her white teeth eerie poking out of her burnt skin. “And how do you suppose you’ll do that? I don’t take orders from you.”

Hissing at her, the Bakeneko pounced.

Its leap left divots in the ground, and its flight was comparable to an eclipse. Jack wondered if his time would be better spent digging a deep hole to hide in.

Lydia dodged. Patches of ordinary skin were beginning to reappear, hair sprouting from her head.

She gulped. The creature was about to land in the city centre, on a packed crowd of wide-eyed onlookers.

Diving down, she waved her arms, eliciting the shock of the people when the paw didn’t crush them. It stopped in the air, sliding down an invisible dome.

Its tail, though, whipped into buildings, and the sound of tearing bricks erupted once more.

Back in the alley, Jack felt helpless. His wrist was on fire, unable to move without killer voltage hammering up his arm. Maybe it was broken.

In front of him, Sam shaded his eyes with his hand, looking at the distant Bakeneko. 

Zooming over to them, Lydia harrumphed. “As much as I dislike the idea, I’ll make sure nobody gets hurt; you two do something about it!”

Jack exhaled, jutting his chin. “What do you expect me to do? I didn’t bring any weapons; I thought we were dealing with a regular monster cat!”

“Just think of something!” Lydia ascended, facing the creature as it plodded towards them. Her brow furrowed and jaw clenched, she hovered, arms outstretched as she tried to prevent more destruction.

The space around them had opened up, though it was dotted with piles of rubble. In front of one such pile stood Sam; he had his hands cupped around his mouth, and took a deep inhale.

“Catzilla!” he roared, the bipedal cat’s head snapping to face him.

“Meow,” it said, continuing its path. The noise was deafening, the vibrations enough to shake his organs.

“Your mother would be very disappointed in you!”

Jack blinked. “Yeah, this guy’s too dumb to live.”

Spreading his arms wide, Sam shuffled towards the Bakeneko, apparently determined to meet it in the middle. It reverted to all fours, its head dipping down.

“See?” said Sam, reaching up to pet it. “I’m getting through to it!”

The cat booped him, sending him staggering back. Suddenly, the oversized head jerked forward, jaws capturing a thin strip of fabric as its head bobbed back up.

Still and slack, Sam hung from the Bakeneko’s mouth with closed eyes and a wavering smile. “Excuse me! Assistance would be greatly appreciated.”

“Why don’t you ask your imaginary friend?” said Lydia, expression tight as she gestured at the bewildered crowds. Her skin looked more normal and she had almost returned to full head of hair, yet her concentration appeared completely on the city; it was terrifying how much she could do with magic.

“The Lord must take many prayers,” said Sam. “I can’t waste his time with every little thing.”

“What part of Catzilla is a waste of god’s time?!” Jack fell to his knees, throwing his head back. He felt empty. As though someone had come and scooped every emotion out of him. “That’s it, we’re f*cked.”

“Not yet, my friend,” shouted Sam, his face flustered and breathing uneven.

The Bakeneko had stopped in place, its head swiveling as though it were searching for something; the Paladin was being dragged along.

“Have faith,” he said. “We may yet succeed.”

Jack threw his arms out, wincing at the jolt from his wrist. “How? Even Lydia couldn’t put a scratch on that thing, what do you expect me to do? Find a giant ball of string?”

Shaking his head, an impressive feat given the agitation he was currently experiencing, Sam smiled. “What we need here is not force of arms; it is the ever-shining light of love!”

“How am I supposed to love something that’s destroyed half the city? How many people d’you think are dead already?”

“None!” bellowed Lydia. “We’re not all as useless as you!”

“Shut up! Who was it that saved you from Bassman, huh?”

“Popcorn fucking Brady!”

Jack simmered.

“Now, now,” yelled Sam, still being rag-dolled. “Christ taught forgiveness in all things.”

“And for all that,” said Jack, licking his teeth, “I bet Judas is still on his shit-list!”

Even with Sam as passenger, Catzilla still managed to make noises, mewls and yowls that combined to sound something like a middle-aged rapper being fed through a meat grinder.

He slapped himself in the forehead.

It was crying.

He didn’t have to love the thing, or forgive it; he just needed to find someone who would. 

Rubbernecking, he focused his gaze around for the one person who had yet to do anything stupid, his ever-reliable assistant.

“Hannah!” he blared, his eyes wide. “Where have you gone?”

All around the alley, in the ruined gardens and remains of houses, there was no-one else - aside from barely-injured and flabbergasted families floating away from the wreckage.

“Now is not the time to pull a sickie!” He growled, considering his options.

Lydia could probably beat the thing on her own, but the damage would be catastrophic; and she seemed unable to focus on anything but healing herself and rescuing civilians.

Sam was… well, Sam. There was an equal chance the cat would eat him or he would convert it to Christianity and take its confession.

Wavering, Jack looked between the two. He couldn’t leave them, but there was nothing he could do.

He didn’t even know where to start looking.

He held his wrist.

“Behold!” came a feminine cry from the distance. “I’ve come to save us all!”

Hannah bolted round the corner, approaching them with a haggard Laura in tow.

“Where have you been?” said Jack, noting Laura with a squint. “Jesus, kid, how did you know what I was thinking?”

“When a child is stressed, you look for their parents,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“How did you find her?”

He felt a lump in his throat when she produced a sheet of paper, beaming smugly.

Staring up at the rampaging Catzilla, Laura’s face dropped, her eyes quivering. “Fluffy…”

Jack twitched. “Did you seriously name a monster of Japanese legend ‘Fluffy’?”

She shrugged. “Yes, cause he’s the fluffiest little fluffster in Flufftown.”

“Whatever,” he said, sighing as he looked at the flying magus. “Lydia! New plan.”

“I’m all ears,” she said, coming closer without breaking focus.

“Excuse me,” cried Sam, “may I be privy to this plan?”

Ignoring him, Jack explained his idea to the others; they agreed it was the best hope they had.

“Understand,” said Lydia, glancing between them and the cat, “that you must do this quickly. If I cast on you, people may start dying because you couldn’t keep control of your pet.”

Laura nodded. “I understand. I’ll make sure I don’t screw up.”

“No pressure,” said Jack.

“Okay. Go!” When Lydia spoke, Laura shot up with enough velocity to exit the atmosphere. Her scream increased in pitch briefly before she came to a stop before the Bakeneko’s face.

“Meow,” said Fluffy, shaky eyes resting on his friend.

“Hello,” said Sam. “Any chance of a little help?”

Reaching out her hands, she whimpered, finally bursting out in a stream of tears rivalling the waves caused by her pet.

“Fluffy!” she bawled, cradling his face and pushing herself into his fur. “I’m so sorry! Please forgive me; I love you, so stop ruining the city!”

“I hope this works,” said Hannah, biting her nails.

“It better,” said Jack, clenching his anus.

The cat stared at her, its cries halted as it tried to look away. She travelled with it, clinging desperately to Fluffy’s face; in a puff of smoke, Catzilla disappeared, replaced by a tiny cat in her arms - he snuggled into her bosom, mewling happily.

Something warm and fuzzy took root in Jack’s chest.

Sam howled as he plummeted to the Earth.

Lydia brought the woman and her cat back down, breathing a sigh of relief as the last patch of skin repaired itself.

“Thank you so much!” said Laura, tears flowing freely as she threw herself at Jack. Fluffy rubbed his face on his injured arm, as though in apology.

Chuckling, Jack said, “I didn’t actually do anything. Thank these two.” He gestured to Hannah and Lydia.

“Hmph.”

Hannah gave a thumbs-up. “You can thank us by paying the fee.”

A surge of pride ran through him, like he was watching a child take her first steps.

“You should probably go before the Police get here,” he said, looking at the sky. “Or the Army.”

Clouds still rolled over blue as though nothing had happened, and the smoke had ceased rising. The city would rebuild, and then they would forget, too.

Laura left, still in tears, and Jack turned to Hannah.

Rubbing the back of his head, he said, “good job, kid. Sorry I made fun of your forms.”

She smiled. “Does that mean I finally get paid?”

He faltered. “Yeah, about that…”

He was cut off by something slimy splattering on his face. Reaching up with his good arm, he withdrew a green quadruped, wriggling and writhing in his grip - it was covered in warts and spots, and had webbed feet.

It croaked.

“Why are frogs falling from the sky?” Jack tossed it away. “Did the author finally lose his mind?

“No,” said Sam, clambering over a pile of rubble. “This is a much greater danger.” He fixed them with a stare containing the weight of galaxies.

“Armageddon is begun.”

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