Back in the bounds of the New Shinkotsu, the celebration of all that today brought was in full swing.
And in a certain alleyway that reeked of urine and rot, echoing the muffled thrum of the celebration drifting in from the street, nothing moved.
Until-
-HURK.
A wall gagged with a wet, sucking hurk that echoed like a butchered animal.
A black tar-like maw erupted, spitting out a human shape like a hairball before-
-THUD.
Luger slammed into the wet filth, his limbs flailing in a desperate, uncoordinated scramble as he clawed at the stone to put distance between himself and the wall before curling into a tight fetal ball while white foam gathered at the corners of his trembling lips.
His eyes rolled back in their sockets, while a high-pitched, broken whimpers tore from his throat.
And the next moment, the darkness within that maw moved.
A shadow-drenched head popped out from the throat of the maw, pushing past the rows of serrated teeth to look down at the broken man with the casual indifference of a neighbour leaning over a fence.
"It is my sincere hope that you would keep this conversation to yourself," the Heretic said. "It is a matter of national security, after all."
Luger only managed a frantic, broken nod, his neck snapping back and forth until-
-sssszzzz.
A dark stain began rapidly spreading across the front of his trousers.
"Good talk." The Heretic simply nodded before-
-SHLUUP.
The Maw swallowed them before snapping shut.
And in the span of a single heartbeat, the eldritch nightmare reverted seamlessly back into a mundane, moss-covered brick wall, leaving Luger shivering in his own waste under the cold moonlight.
While back at the stagnant silence of the northwestern woodlands, the Heretic stood motionless, wrapped in a silhouette of void that blocked the moonlight before drawing a long, slow breath, filling their lungs with the scent of damp earth before raising a hand and-
-Snap.
The sharp sound cracked through the clearing, and instantly, the dim moonlight lit back up with its piercing clarity.
While withering darkness on the Heretic’s frame recoiled instantly, slithering off to dissolve into the night air, revealing a woman of a terrifying elegance standing in its wake.
Cascades of chestnut hair tumbled over her pristine white robes while her piercing violet eyes glared at the ground with a deep, exhausted frown.
She stood at the epicenter of a complex pentagram drawn in fresh blood that sizzled softly before sinking into the soil and disappearing.
Peko slowly raised a hand, pinching the bridge of her nose while squeezing her eyes shut to massage away the headache blooming behind her temples as the memory of the conversation replayed in her mind.
"It’s just one thing after the other..."
She grumbled the complaint before opening her eyes back to look toward the city.
"I must relay this information to the young master. This cannot get any worse."
And with that, she bent her knees and-
-BOOM!
The earth detonated beneath her feet. Leaves, soil, and shattered roots sprayed violently into the air as she launched herself straight into the dark canopy, rocketing toward the city like a cannonball.
Meanwhile, back in Old Shinkotsu, the streets were entirely removed from the festival noise bleeding out from the southern districts.
Paper lanterns swayed gently in the cool breeze, casting a warm, flickering amber light across the empty cobblestone streets.
Nom-Nom strolled down the center of the road, her hands folded neatly behind her back, right over the massive greatsword.
She moved with a cheerful, bouncy little skip in her step. It was an incredibly adorable, entirely disarming way to walk, which stood in stark contrast to her piercing violet eyes. Those eyes were currently scanning the dark rooftops with a calculating and deeply predatory focus.
She was on guard duty, and she took her job very seriously. Every single muscle beneath her pale skin remained coiled tight like a steel spring. If Peko used that stone to ping her master with even a hint of distress, Nom-Nom was fully prepared to shatter the pavement beneath her feet and launch herself toward Peko’s location on the map to slaughter whatever stood in her way.
But for now, it was all quiet.
She paused at a quiet street corner, her ears twitching slightly to filter the sound of the wind. Finding nothing but stray cats and distant music, she gave herself a firm, satisfied little nod and resumed her patrol.
She began humming a soft, formless tune under her breath, balancing on the edge of a stone curb just for the fun of it.
A few feet down the road, she stopped completely. A particularly fluffy, pale green moth was resting against the paper of a street lantern. Nom-Nom leaned in close, her eyes going wide with pure fascination as she tilted her head to the side, watching the insect’s wings slowly fan the air, completely captivated by the little creature.
Suddenly, her ears twitched. And the tension instantly drained from her towering frame, replaced by relaxed familiarity.
The darkness beneath a bench rippled outward across the cobblestones from which Peko stepped out as though walking up the stairs, her face entirely devoid of emotion as she casually brushed a nonexistent speck of dust from her white robes.
"Contact the Young Master," Peko commanded, leaving absolutely no room for a greeting. "This has turned out to be catastrophic."
The playful, adorable light vanished from Nom-Nom’s eyes in a fraction of a second, replaced by a sudden, cold clarity. She understood the severity of that tone.
Nodding once, Nom-Nom closed her eyes and reached her consciousness directly across the Familiar Bond binding her to Nico.
Nom-Nom froze mid-step. Her violet eyes glazed over for a single, breathless heartbeat as the connection snapped firmly into place.
When she blinked, her entire demeanor shifted.
She rolled her shoulders with a heavy sigh and slouched forward, dropping her perfect posture into a relaxed, incredibly lazy stance that looked entirely alien on her frame. She brought a hand up, lazily scratching her chin.
Peko stared at the sudden transformation, her frown turning into a glare as she instantly recognized the mannerisms bleeding through Nom-Nom’s body.
"Not again," Peko sighed, looking incredibly fed up. "This is a serious matter."
"And this is the most efficient way to talk," Nom-Nom replied with a lopsided grin. Her voice had dropped an entire octave, perfectly mimicking Nico’s distinct tone.
Mimicking ’Nico’ Nom-Nom’s head to the side, looking at Peko with lazy amusement before repeating the words Nico spoke to her via the Bond.
"So, what are we dealing with? A highly trained Adventurer’s Party? The local Mafia? Bandits? Lolicons?"
"An international cultist terror organization," Peko stated flatly.
"Oh."