The sun hovered over the ocean and the sky slowly darkened, turning the beautiful colors of the sky redder and redder. The sun would set soon. 

Erril let out a terrible yell from inside the girls’ tent, a guttural yell of fear and desperation. 

“Where is she?!” he repeated, bursting out of the tent and panting heavily. 

“There’s no other footprints in the sand but ours,” Azer announced. “And there’s nothing in the boys’ tent either. It’s like they’re just… gone.” 

Erril yelled with anguish, falling to his knees in the sand. Even Rena’s usually tranquil expression was grim. 

“Although,” Azer continued, pointing a finger towards the tall woods, “we’ve narrowed down that they have to be in the forest somewhere.” 

“But we’ve searched the forest all day!” Erril retaliated. “We checked every inch of our path!” 

“But that’s exactly it. They might not be near the path at all. If we want to find someone who’s lost, we have to get lost ourselves.” 

 

---

 

Grif pondered long-ago spoken words from Dr. D as he sat in his dirt cell again. 

“Where did you come from? Well, I found these old news articles from a while ago about two young children who were found soaking wet in seawater. If I could guess, those two children were you.”

This made him think. What was the significance of him being found covered in seawater? And if the Schism chief was telling the truth, then how had he gotten to Manim in the first place? 

Grif had been unceremoniously tossed back into the cell after attempting to ask further questions about the Schisms. He could hardly feel the scrapes and bruises they had inflicted on him over the cacophony of shocked thoughts buzzing through his injured head. 

He had no idea where he was from or who his parents were. He wasn’t sure what he expected. But this—the people who’d imprisoned him—seemed to be about as bad as it got. Grif had always envisioned his biological parents in a tragic but noble light—maybe there was some heroic reason he had been sent away, why his heart had been removed and replaced. A primitive tribe of barbarians wasn’t anywhere in that picture. 

He thought back to his conversation with Azer several days ago. Maybe he was better off not knowing the truth. 

Grif felt a stirring beside him, and then a weak “ugh…” 

“Where are we?” groaned Saa’s voice from behind him. 

“I’m not sure,” Grif replied, trying to keep his voice measured. His throat was impossibly dry, and he tasted blood. “We’ve been captured. We weren’t alone here on Arcus Island.” 

“But… how? I thought-” 

“I’m just as stupefied as you are. And to make matters worse, the chief of their tribe said I’m his son. Knew my name and everything.” He let the silence hang. He could almost hear Saa’s shocked expression. “I don’t know what’s supposed to happen to us next.” 

“For real?” Saa’s disbelieving voice said. “Damn…”

They were silent. Grif didn’t know what to say. 

“Well, we have to get out, don’t we?” Saa said, accompanied by the sound of shuffling dirt. “I mean, unless you want to stay. Here, stand up. I need to show you something.” 

Following Saa’s lead, Grif stood up in the choking darkness of their cell. 

“I’m gonna have a hard time seeing what you want to show me if it’s dark as shi-” 

All of a sudden, Saa grabbed Grif’s shoulder, and the cell lit up with bizarre light. His eyes briefly burned before the pain reduced to a low ache, leaving him able to focus on the unimaginable things in front of him. 

Grif couldn’t recognize a single color in the room. The dirt walls were faintly lit with a reddish light. Grif thought every color he was seeing was red. But it also wasn’t red. It was as if he was seeing indescribable variations of the color red, none of them truly crimson, everything unfamiliar and alien to his eyes. All of the colors were somehow… below red. Infrared. 

“How did you-” Grif sputtered. 

“My Val is the control of infrared light, remember? Or has it really been that long? I just gave you the ability to see in the infrared wavelength. As long as I’m touching you, you can only see infrared light. Here, turn around.” 

Grif whipped around to see Saa’s face, but it was a distortion of it that he didn’t recognise. He could only see her heat, a strange temperature map of his friend. And, behind her, still collapsed, Grif could see the heat of Copycat’s body. 

“Can you… usually see in the infrared?” Grif asked, still bewildered. He wasn’t sure if he could ever adjust to the incomprehensible colors. 

“I can see both infrared and visible light, or just either of them if I want. But, isn’t this better? A lot better than just pure darkness, right?” 

Grif gave his cell and surroundings a proper look-over, and was shocked to see how much detail he could make out inside the cell. He could even distinguish small pebbles within the dirt walls of his enclosure. 

“Y- yeah. Not gonna lie, it’s off-putting, but yeah.” 

“Great. Make your way to the boulder at the front. We might be able to see the body heat of everyone outside. And don’t drift off, I have to be touching you for you to see infrared light.” 

Grif walked over to the massive boulder that blocked their cell, Saa’s hand still on his shoulder. There was a hotter shade of color peeking out from around the edges of the large stone, most likely residual heat from the bonfire outside. 

“Looks like moving the boulder back and forth over the entrance of the cell cracked the dirt a little bit. Look, the dirt’s dislodged where the boulder meets it,” Saa pointed. 

Still fascinated by the fact that his fingerprints left temporary heat marks on the boulder’s face, he refocused on escaping. Saa looked up to a light-emitting break in the earthen wall of the entrance. 

“Yep, there’s people out there. A huge fire, too. Here, you try.” 

Saa moved out of the way to make way for Grif, who pressed his face up against the crack and tried to look outside. He could make out the figures of people, glowing in different spots, the sides of their bodies that faced the bonfire colored significantly warmer. Then, without warning, another glowing humanoid shape crossed his vision and approached the boulder. 

“Wait, I think people are coming. Get back!” 

Saa and Grif stepped back, and Saa’s hand left his shoulder, plunging the area back into total darkness. Then, with a shuddering slide, the boulder was pushed out of the entrance, and three figures, one being the familiar boy Grif had seen earlier, filled the light. 

“Get up again, all of you!” the familiar boy shouted in his guttural language. “Get up! Now! You’re coming with me!” 

“He’s telling us to come with him,” Grif said to a very confused Saa. Copycat was beginning to stir now, and another boy with similar stature appeared from behind the first and grabbed Copycat by the collar, pulling him to standing. 

“Hey- what the hell are you-” Copycat shouted. 

“Copycat, just go with them. Don’t resist,” Saa warned. 

Three spear-armed guards pushed, shoved, and pulled the prisoners out of their cell and into the fire-lit camp. 

Grif found himself thrown to the ground again in front of the chief, his war-torn face staring down at him with a single eye. 

“Grif,” the chief growled. While Copycat and Saa didn’t know the Schisms’ language, they recognized Grif’s name, prompting them to go wide-eyed. “Your fate is already decided. But you two–” the chief trained his eye on Saa and Copycat– “you two are foreigners. If you have powers… then show me.” 

Saa and Copycat looked at Grif expectantly, the flickering fire illuminating their panicked expressions. 

“He… he wants you to show him your Vals,” Grif said. 

Reluctantly, Copycat created a clone of himself that quickly dissipated, and Saa briefly heated up a leaf on the ground until it burst into flame. The chief looked at the two scrutinizingly. 

“As I thought. I should have assumed one accursed boy would only bring more accursed children. But your timing is impeccable. Our deities demand sacrifice, and you three will be perfect for the ritual. Take them away,” he ordered. 

“Wait, wait!” Grif shouted as the guards began to drag the three towards a tunnel at the end of the camp. “Why are they cursed? I thought you would leave them alone if they showed you!” 

“I have no words for a child possessed by the devil. I spared you once, and though you are my son, you will not be spared again.” 

Then the chief’s face disappeared behind the fire, and the camp fell away behind the receding mouth of the tunnel. 

 

---

 

Azer, Erril, and Rena stood bewildered in front of a horizontal cut in a tree. Erril ran his fingers over the gash, shock overcoming his panicked thoughts. 

“We weren’t alone…” he uttered. 

“Didn’t you only make vertical cuts in the trees?” Rena pointed. 

“I did. These definitely aren’t mine. The cut’s too wide to have been from my knife. Here, look-” Erril pulled out his knife and rested it within the horizontal cut. There was ample space between it and the borders of the scar in the tree. “They had to have followed these instead of my cuts. But, look at this- the horizontal cut is pointing towards another.” 

Erril put his knife back into his pocket and traced his finger along the cut’s path. He moved his finger off the tree, following its path forward until it hit another tree, right where a new cut started, pointing in a new direction. 

“Someone’s using these to get back from somewhere. It’s marking a path,” Azer pointed. 

“Then we just have to follow it,” insisted Erril. 

“But, wait, listen,” Azer interjected. “If we follow it back, we’re sure to find whoever made the trail in the first place. And at the bare minimum, we can assume that they have a knife. And if they happened to take Grif, Saa, and Copycat, then-” 

“Then we’ll just have to fight them.” 

“Are we even ready for a fight? Erril, I thought you didn’t have a Val?” 

“I do,” Rena quietly interjected. The two turned to her, surprised. 

“You do? What is it?” Azer asked. 

“It’s not important. I can hold my own if I need to.” 

“Vals or not,” Erril said testily, “we need to follow this trail. No matter what, we have to get back to the others. I can hold my own, too, thank you very much.” 

Azer thought for a moment, pondering Erril’s determination. Erill wasn’t afraid to encounter anything to get his sister back, despite the innumerable risks. Maybe he could get behind that, too. 

“You’re right. We’ll be able to take whatever’s waiting for us. Let’s go.” 

 

---

 

After hours of being forced through earthen and rocky tunnels, lit only by the flickering flame of a torch, Grif, Copycat, and Saa were thrown unceremoniously into yet another cell, barred with old and rusted iron. From the glimpses Grif could manage, it was one of many along a long, hastily-dug wall of cells, with remnants of other poor souls inside. Grif could have sworn he saw bones in some of them. 

With iron shutters slammed behind them, the faces of the torch-lit guards stared down at the three. The tallest one, holding the torch, said: 

“You’ll be sacrificed at dawn. Any attempt to escape will be met with torture. Save your blood for the ritual.” 

The three guards then turned back around in perfect unison, backs to the cell, distanced just out of reach. They gripped their spears tightly. After a moment of silence between the three prisoners, Saa spoke. 

“Did you see the conditions of the other people in the cells?” 

“Unfortunately,” Grif replied. Copycat was silent, maintaining a glare on Grif, who ignored it. 

“They were skin and bones,” Saa hissed. “They looked like walking corpses. I saw some of them missing fingers and limbs.” 

“Well, we won’t have to worry about being in here that long since the guards just said we’re being sacrificed at dawn.” 

“At dawn?! It’s already night!” 

“They also made it pretty clear that we’re gonna be tortured if we try and escape.” 

“Holy shit,” Saa said, pacing the cell with her hands on her head. “Holy shit.” 

Grif couldn’t process anything anymore, as if his body had shut down all outside stimulus. His parents and people—the things he’d dedicated his whole life to finding—were trying to kill him. 

Now it was Copycat’s turn to speak. “Grif, what did they say earlier?” 

Grif snapped out of his trance. “Who? When? You mean when they asked you to show them our Vals?” 

“Yeah. What was the chief saying?” 

“He said we had to show him our Vals, and when we did, he told us that our Vals were ‘evil’ and said we were going to be sacrificed.” 

“Why didn’t he ask you to show your Val?” 

“He already knew it. Apparently I’m the chief’s son.” 

“Figures.”

Grif looked at him incredulously as Copycat stood up, visibly angry. 

“What did you say?” demanded Grif. 

“Figures you’re his son. You’ve been plotting with them, haven’t you? You already know their language, after all. What do they call themselves, huh?” 

“The Schisms. But, Copycat, what-” 

“Enough!” he shouted. “Just shut up! You brought us here, didn’t you? You led us to the Schisms’ camp! You’re oh so special enough to deserve being spared while Saa and I get tortured and sacrificed to a tribe of primitives! Isn’t that right? You said it yourself, the Schism chief said ‘your fate is already decided.’ He just wants to spare his darling son!” 

Now Saa was looking at Copycat incredulously. “Copycat, what are you saying? Grif was captured, too. He doesn’t know why he’s here any more than we do!” 

“You shut up, too! How can you defend him? He’s the only one here who knows their language! He told us to show them our Vals! And he’s the chief’s damn son! He has every reason to be helping the Schisms!” 

Grif’s fists clenched and his knuckles went white. Another word, and he’d slam his fists into Copycat’s hateful face. 

“He and Azer just want to be special! Of course he’d want to be the Schism’s damn prince!” 

“Copycat, STOP IT!” Saa yelled. “Grif didn’t even want to come here! It was my fault we even followed the Schism’s false trail in the first place! Remember? When we were following the trees back, he didn’t even want to come this way! Grif was the first to be captured when we did encounter them! And besides, he would have no reason to betray us! He’s our friend! Can’t we trust in that?!” 

Copycat was breathing deeply, his face still red with anger, Grif’s even more so. Copycat was still glaring into his eyes as if daring him to attack. Grif held back. Barely. 

“We have no reason to be arguing and every reason to be escaping! We really will be sacrificed and killed if you keep this up!” said Saa.

“Alright,” Copycat conceded. “Fine. We’ll focus on escaping. And Grif, if you overstep your bounds, I’ll-” 

“I can promise you that I want answers more than you,” Grif interrupted. “I wanna know what the hell is going on.” 

Copycat glared for a few seconds more. 

“Saa, what’s your plan? Do you even have one?” Copycat asked. 

“I do. I know how we can get out, get rescued, and get answers, all at the same time.” 

“Seriously?” Grif urged. 

“A lot of it is gonna depend on my Val, especially getting out and getting found by the others. And Copycat, your Val is how we’re gonna get answers. Though we might have to get violent to do so.” 

“And how are we going to do all that?” Copycat demanded. 

“Well, we need to get out. And to do that, we’re gonna have to fight.” 

 

---

 

The cool night air of autumn chilled Azer’s skin as he stepped and trekked through the forest just behind Rena and Erril. They had to have followed hundreds of marks by now, walking beside a small creek that weaved along their path. 

“Haven’t you noticed,” Rena said quietly, looking at the ground intently as she walked, “that we haven’t come across any footprints? None of the leaves we’re stepping on are crushed.” 

Azer focused on the satisfying crunch of dried, fallen leaves under his shoes. “Yeah, you’re right. I wonder why?” 

“We’ve also passed a lot of diverging paths,” Erril added. “Whoever or whatever made these paths must have made each one for a different purpose, to a different location. I’ve just been taking us on the main path that the others connect to.” 

“Maybe nobody’s been on this trail for a while,” suggested Azer. “The cuts in the trees, like you said, are pretty old.” 

“No, Rena had the right idea. There should at least be some footprints in the leaves. There’s no way that Saa and the others would have gotten this lost without something happening to them. Whoever made these marks had to have kidnapped them, and they had to have left some kind of trace.” 

They continued walking silently, taking in the dark forest lit only by the stars overhead. The trail of marks seemed to continue forever, and more enigmatically, not a single crushed leaf was to be found along it. Then, from afar, they heard the sound of rushing water. 

“It sounds like a stream,” Rena pointed. 

“It does. And the trail looks like it’s taking us right to it,” said Erril. “We should refill our water bottles.” 

Slowly, the sound grew louder, until the source of the splashing came into view. It was a small waterfall inside of a clearing, rocks and stones lining the stream. The still parts of the water reflected Zysti galaxy above, bright and clear, fathoms of stars clustered in the sky. The waterfall stretched two dozen feet into the air, its top out of view from the clearing below. Autumn-colored leaves pooled and grouped in the water, getting stuck behind sticks and rocks as they marched along the stream’s surface. 

“It’s really pretty,” Azer pointed. 

“No kidding,” agreed Erril. “But we can’t stay. Let’s refill our water and get back on the path.” 

Azer unscrewed the lid of his bottle and dipped it into the clear water, watching the reflected stars rippling over the surface. The bottom of the stream was rocky, Azer noticed, and the clarity of the water was astonishing. As the water topped off, Azer admired the waterfall up ahead and the white mist it made as it fell. 

And underneath the waterfall, barely visible, Azer noticed a shimmer. For the briefest of moments, it reflected Erril’s flashlight, dangling off his wrist from a looped string. 

“Wait, guys.” 

Everyone went still and looked towards Azer. 

“There’s something under there.” Azer pointed at the waterfall. He got up, replaced the cap, and walked closer to the waterfall along the water’s edge. “I saw it reflecting.” 

“You sure it wasn’t just the water?” questioned Erril. 

“Certain.” 

As close to the waterfall as he could get now, Azer began removing his socks, shoes, and coat. 

“Whoa, Azer, what are you doing?” 

“I’m gonna get a look at it. I’m sure I saw something in there.” 

Then, Azer leaped into the water. 

The cold was paralyzing. Below the water was a freezing abyss that made Azer’s mind reel. Underneath the foamy white blanket of bubbles from the falling water, Azer could faintly make out a shiny object, rectangular in shape. But as he swam closer, he realized it didn’t stop there. The rectangular, metallic object was a thin flap, one of many attached to a large wheel much taller than him. The wheel-like machine lay flat on the bed of the stream, mostly covered in silt. 

Azer, freezing down to his bones, threw himself onto the rocks, shivering violently. 

“I saw… a wheel,” he managed. 

“What? In the water?” Erril asked. 

“Yes. Under… the falls. It looked… like a water… turbine.” 

Erril grabbed a towel from his oversized backpack and draped it over Azer, still shivering. 

“A turbine? For real?” 

“I don’t know… why it's there… but… I saw a wire… connecting to it. Going up the waterfall. Just under the surface of the water… most likely.” 

“Are you saying…” 

“We need to follow it,” Azer stated, more determined now. “I think that’s going to take us… where we need to go.” 

“Are you sure? If we stray off the trail, we might not ever make it back.” 

“I’m pretty sure about this.” 

Erril looked at the top of the waterfall and then sighed apprehensively. “If you insist. At least climbing this thing might warm you up.” 

After Azer retrieved his coat, the three began to climb up the rocks that surrounded the waterfall, the cold surface freezing Azer’s fingers further. By the time they reached the top, Azer noticed that he did in fact feel warmer. 

“Hey, Azer. You were right,” Azer heard Erril call. 

Erril was already hunched over the stream, his arm shoulder-deep into the moving water. He had uncovered a wire under the silt and mud, looking as if it continued upstream. 

“Let’s see where this thing goes.” 

They followed the stream’s path a ways, staying close to the water’s edge, until Erril broke the silence. 

“You know, there could very well be wildlife here. The path might have been protecting us.” 

Azer took in his surroundings in the dark forest. For a moment, the shadows all seemed to be staring down at him. Then, all at once, he realized how isolated they were now that they were outside of the marked path of the cut trees. 

“You’re right. We should be on guard,” Azer replied. 

As they walked, Erril frowned, looking at the stream apprehensively. Azer, too, shifted his attention to the stream to see plump, camouflaged fish swimming around, only their movement noticeable against the grayish waterbed. Some of the larger fish had sharp, menacing spines on them. Some were almost as long as his whole body. 

“Why would these fish need spikes?” Erril pondered, leaning down towards the water. “They’re pretty big.” 

Erril turned to the other two. “You guys know what this means, right? There might b-”

In a swift moment, a massive, scaled creature erupted from the stream beside them, soaring through the air. It had rows of jagged teeth and shrunken eyes, its jaws agape and ready to clench down on Erril. 

Massive pounding sounds rocked the earth, and then a bigger creature suddenly grabbed the first within its maw midair. With a sickening crunch, it gulped down viscera, scales, and bone, until it had swallowed the scaled creature whole. 

The predator was colossal in size, with six clawed legs standing on the wet rocks by the stream. Its mouth was bloody, its teeth dull and lining an elongated jaw. The creature was battle-scarred, its fur-covered body sporting numerous gashes and cuts, and as it turned its tiny eyes towards the three shocked travelers, it took the new prey into its gaze. 

Azer, Erril, and Rena backed up slowly. The creature had already killed in the blink of an eye. There was no way they could outrun it. Azer, maybe, with the full use of his S.R., but Erril and Rena? Not a chance. Azer’s mind was racing, processing what to do, how to escape, while faced with the slowly approaching, hostile predator in front of them. 

Suddenly, the creature made an agonized noise, and the bloodthirst in its eyes died out instantly, replaced by an expression of immense pain. Brief puffs of smoke came from its eyes, nose, and mouth as it gasped for breath, and it swayed left and right trying to maintain its footing. It continued growling and whining, reddish-orange glows now visible from inside its open jaw, until it let out the loudest roar yet. 

“RUN!” Rena yelled. 

The creature exploded in a massive blast of fire, meat and guts flying in every direction. A mix of burning brimstone and chunks of flesh whizzed by the three, and by the time the carnage was over, the only evidence of the creature left were stains of blood on their clothes and a red mist hanging in the air where the creature used to stand. Nearby, Rena stood resolute, hands pointed towards where the creature used to be, a sick look on her bloody face. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. 

Erril, panting heavily, looked at Rena with disbelief. 

“What the SHIT?!” 

“I told you I could hold my own if I needed to,” Rena said stoically, still wiping blood off her face. She pulled a piece of flesh out of her wiry hair and threw it to the ground. 

“What did you do?” Azer asked. Erril was too shocked to say anything. 

“My Val is to control sodium. The element.” 

“That doesn’t help!” 

“I just concentrated the sodium in its body into its stomach. Sodium reacts with water, there was plenty of water in its stomach, so the sodium reacted and exploded. Almost every living thing has sodium and water in it.” 

Azer turned towards the bloody mist cloud and the falling chunks of the creature splashing into the water. Hold your own? That’s going a bit further than that. 

 

---

 

“On the count of three, kick down the melted bars, alright?” 

Grif was positioned in front of the iron bars of their cell, Saa standing beside him. Saa had already melted through the top of a few of the bars, concentrating infrared light onto them until they became red-hot and decayed. The three guards in front of the cell were oblivious. Saa finished melting the final bars and they were ready to be kicked down. 

“One… two… three!” 

Grif kicked the weakened bars with all of his might, and the red-hot molten metal that was holding them in place snapped and fell away.

In unison, the guards lunged at them with their spears, but the escapees swiftly dodged or leaped over the metal tips. Grif unleashed an electric kick onto one of the guards, Copycat kneed another in the face, and Saa squarely punched the last in the temple. All three of the guards reeled at the impact but steadied themselves again only a moment later, returning more vicious and more powerful. As Grif dodged blow for blow, now too focused to notice what was happening with Saa and Copycat, he realized the sheer bloodthirst of the guards. Their moves were brutal, aiming to gouge fingers and eyes with their spears and to break bones with their muscular and war-torn arms. It was nothing like the punches and kicks Grif and his friends were taught to use in the Battle Academy. 

At last, Grif’s opponent faltered in his stance, and Grif sweeped his leg, knocking the guard to the ground with a thud. The guard still conscious, Grif decided he would try to end the fight with a swift punch to the face. He reared back his fist, swung, and- 

The guard, in a blinding fast movement, grabbed Grif’s wrist before the punch could land, stopping it in midair. But there was something wrong—where the guard’s hand met his wrist, Grif could feel a bizarre tingling sensation. And then he realized, in a sickening moment, that the guard’s hand was sinking into his arm. The guard was looking up at Grif with a cruel stare. 

Grif raised a leg and slammed it into the guard’s face, knocking him out instantly. The guard’s hand released, and blood poured out of where the hand once held. Grif looked at the wound in horror, seeing the skin and muscle where the guard’s hand had been was removed, wiped away. All that remained was a hand-shaped wound with blood pouring out of it. 

Grif promptly tore a piece of cloth off of his shirt and wrapped it around his wound. He turned to Saa and Copycat, still fighting.

“The guards have some kind of weird ability! Don’t let them touch you!” 

Saa, without hesitation, stepped away from the guard she was fighting and opted to blind him with infrared light before finishing him with a blow to the head. 

“It’s a little late for that!” Copycat shouted. The guard had already grabbed Copycat’s arm and was pulling it closer to his face, a steel glare fixed on Copycat’s eyes. Copycat was desperately trying to release his arm from the guard’s grip, but the guard was too strong. When Copycat’s struggling hand touched the guard’s face, the tips of his fingers began to disappear. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING?!” Copycat yelled. 

Now all of Copycat’s fingers had disappeared, absorbed into the guard’s face, still glaring coldly at him. Then his hand disappeared, then his wrist, before one of Copycat’s clones drop kicked the guard, forcing the guard back. Copycat’s arm was now missing its hand, and blood was pouring out of the wound. The guard lunged at Copycat again, and– 

With a loud yell, Saa slammed the guard in the head with one of the torn metal bars. The guard fell to the ground with a thud, unconscious. Grif ran over to Copycat. 

Copycat was breathing heavily, holding his right arm with the missing hand in horror. Grif began tearing off another piece of cloth. 

“It doesn’t hurt… it didn’t hurt… but what the hell did he do? I’m missing a hand and it doesn’t even hurt?!” Copy said between heavy breaths.

“Take this,” Grif offered. He held out the cloth. “I don’t know how we’re going to get your hand back, but this should help stop the bleeding-”

“It’s fine,” Copycat said, a clone of himself he had made earlier walking over to him. “I’m lucky I copied myself so much during the fight. I ended up with a few clones left over.” 

“What do you mean?” Saa said, now approaching Copycat as well. 

“Here, Saa, give me the iron bar,” Copycat’s clone said. Saa obliged, handing over the bar with the sharp tip. 

The clone turned the bar over to its sharp side, put his hand on the ground, and pointed towards a spot on his wrist. 

“Here?” the clone asked Copycat. 

“Yeah,” the original answered. “There.” 

“Don’t look if you know what’s good for you,” both Copycats said in unison. The clone lifted the bar into the air, aimed it over the spot on his wrist, and, realizing what was about to happen, Grif looked away. 

There was a sickening thunk sound, and then the sound of Copycat picking something up off the ground. When Grif turned back around, the clone was gone, only dust left, and Copycat was holding a brand new hand tight onto where his bloody wrist was. 

“Did you just–” Saa exclaimed, horrified. 

“Yeah. Not fun,” Copycat answered. “Grif, could I have that cloth now?” 

Grif handed over the cloth, thoroughly nauseated now. To Grif’s own surprise, he was looking at Copycat with a mix of horror and sympathy. 

“If I lose a limb and I have a clone available, I can just take the limb from the clone. We’re all exactly identical, down to the cell, the only difference is I’m the original. I can’t be replaced.” 

“What if you don’t have any clones?” Saa asked. 

“Then I’m screwed. Any clone I make copies my current physical state, so if I copy myself with a missing arm, the clone’s gonna have a missing arm, too. I got lucky this time.” 

Grif had a brief moment of respect for Copycat. 

“If you’re not in too much pain, we can keep going,” Saa said. 

“I’m fine,” Copycat answered. “It didn’t hurt much anyway… it just felt really, really weird.” 

“I’m alright too,” Grif answered. “I just lost some blood.” 

“Then we’ll proceed with the next bit of the plan,” Saa said. “And for that, you guys are gonna have to get closer.” 

Copycat and Grif slowly edged their way closer to each other. Then Saa walked behind them and put her hands on each of their shoulders. 

And then everything went dark.