Jeremiah skipped through the forest beside Gabriel, who carried the monster's decapitated head like a trophy. The boy twirled a lollipop in his fingers and chirped:
"So, buddy, you said Saraline's stuck in here, yeah? We've been walking for two weeks. Please tell me this isn't just another bar crawl."
"Hot fucking diggity dog!" Gabriel's mask flicked into Thalia, his voice bubbling with sarcasm. "Two weeks! And what do we find? A portal. You hear that, Darkly?" He shook the head mockingly. "You could've mentioned this earlier."
Without hesitation, they stepped into the portal.
They fell.
"Why are we falling!?" Jeremiah screamed cheerfully at the head. "Hey Gabe, can you, like, cushion the bottom?"
"If I do that, the bar vanishes! One domain at a time!" Gabriel's mask shifted to Melpomene, his tone frayed. "That's why I'm not First!"
They smashed into a black floor. Groaning, Jeremiah staggered to his feet—and froze.
Two women clashed in front of them: one human, one dripping slime.
Jeremiah's jaw dropped. "OH MY DAYS—SARALINE! HI!" He waved as if she weren't busy fistfighting her gooey doppelgänger.
Saraline rolled her eyes mid-swing. "You bring company now Jeremiah?"
The slime clone ducked, laughing. "Stalkers, huh?"
"Obsessed ones as well," Saraline corrected, landing a punch. "Especially the one in the mask."
"Can you all not?" Gabriel groaned. "Saraline, we're here to haul your ass out."
"She doesn't leave without me or my permission!" the slime snarled.
Jeremiah twirled his lollipop like a wand. "Let's negotiate! Fighting is barbaric."
The slime paused, smirking. "Fine. One condition: I come with you."
"Sure," Gabriel shrugged. "We got a crazy kid, me—a legend, a shadow head, Saraline the failure, and now Saraline Two."
The two women fist-bumped without breaking stride.
But the air cracked before anyone could move further. A silhouette stepped from the shadows, ripping the abyss apart.
Saraline stiffened. Gabriel's mask froze. Jeremiah's eyes swirled.
"No way," he breathed. "I'm meeting my maker."
The figure strode closer—blue hair, dark skin, white eyes that glowed like moons. His sheer presence dwarfed the others.
"Yeah," he said, voice curling into a joke. "You're meeting Me-duh." Medea smiled. "Shame it's under these circumstances."
Gabriel squared his shoulders. "What circumstances?"
"You're fired," Medea said simply. He pointed one by one at everyone but Jeremiah. "Thidos' orders. No more Saints. No more leash. Reprisal or death—it's the same thing. You should've broken free long ago."
Saraline spat. "That's illegal."
Psylaiso folded her arms. "We don't accept."
Medea shrugged. "I don't care. Do what you want." He vanished.
Jeremiah blinked. "That was… way too neat. Too fake."
Two words flashed across his vision.
You're right.
He jolted awake.
Bars surrounded him. Everyone—Gabriel, Saraline, Psylaiso, even the disembodied head—was trapped in the same cage.
"Sleep well?" Medea stood outside, this time dressed in a spotless professor's coat. His white eyes gleamed.
Jeremiah groaned. "What's going on, teach?"
"Why would I tell you?" Medea's tone was flat, almost bored. "Listen. We're Medeans. You're my people. Ditch these ones before the Reprisal. If you stay, you die."
Jeremiah leaned against the bars, grin spreading slowly. "A couple days until the show, right? Guess I'll check it out then… brolala."
Medea clicked his teeth in irritation, then lifted the entire cage effortlessly and began walking toward Floria.