"Who's going to murder me?"

"The other students!"

"Can you like, backtrack, and explain what dungeon sim is in greater detail?" I asked.

Kristi sighed dramatically, eyes rolling skyward. "Dungeon simulation. First week of Advanced Dungeoneering always starts with it. The class gets split into two teams—delvers and monsters. Everyone wears their full delving gear with red or blue tags to show which team they're on."

"Sounds like capture the flag," I offered.

"Kind of, except it's in the gym and extends into the Ferguson forest section. The monster team hides a 'treasure' somewhere in the forest, and the delver team who starts in the gym aka the Adventurers Guild has to find it while surviving monster attacks." She leaned forward, talons clicking against the table. "It gets intense. Last year, twelve students ended up in the nurse's office with serious injuries, and one kid's armor melted to his fur."

"So, like dodgeball but with the potential for hospitalization," I mused. "Sounds fun."

"For someone with actual gear, skills, and combat experience, sure," Kristi growled. "You're going to get obliterated. The others won't hold back just because you're new and not equipped."

"Look," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt, "I'll figure something out. I always do. Maybe I can borrow some gear..."

"Borrow?" She lifted her head, her expression incredulous. "From whom? The Gear Fairy?"

I looked at her.

"My gear won't fit you. I'm like a head taller, different species and a girl," she said. "You don't just 'borrow' dungeon equipment, Alec. Using someone else's gear is like trying to wear their skin—technically possible but incredibly uncomfortable and is likely to get you killed when the gear fails or turns against the wearer."

"Then I'll get my own," I insisted. "There must be some kind of student assistance program or equipment rental—"

"The school offers basic loaner gear for beginners," Kristi cut in, "but that's for Dungeoneering 101, not Advanced. The loaner gear would shatter upon encounter with high level soul-bound gear everyone wears in Advanced class. Professional delver gear is magically bonded to its owner by a Binder. Binders are rare as fuck and are usually booked up months in advance."

I opened my mouth.

Her feathers ruffled in frustration. "You don't understand. The others have specialized weapons, enchanted armor, custom spellseals. Some of them have been preparing for these classes their whole lives."

"So I'll be at a disadvantage," I shrugged, which immediately made me wince as pain shot through my shoulders. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Kristi stared at me for a long moment, her head tilted in that pradavarian way that meant she was reassessing something.

"You really don't get it," she said finally. "This isn't like getting beat up by some drunk bikers or surviving a hallway chase. These are trained combatants with actual magical abilities who take the simulation very seriously because it affects their ranking, college scholarship and future placements for the real dungeon dives."

I absorbed this information. The warm broth and a power nap had done wonders for my energy level, but she was right—I wasn't prepared for whatever tomorrow would bring.

"You have to go back to the principal and get him to change your schedule," she said. "This is not acceptable!"

"No," I said simply.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Her feathers bristled with indignation. "Did you not hear a single word I just said? They will destroy you."

"I heard you," I replied, gathering the remains of my meal. "And I appreciate the concern, but I'm not backing down."

"This isn't about 'backing down,'" she hissed, leaning across the table. "This is about not getting yourself killed on your first day!"

"Look," I said, meeting her raptor-glare, "I've spent my entire life not being given a chance, being told that I'm too pathetic, too weak, not good enough, that I don't belong. If Kerberos thinks I can handle Advanced Dungeoneering, I'm going to prove him right."

"He doesn't think you can handle it!" Kristi exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "He's setting you up to fail! Spectacularly! Possibly fatally!"

"Maybe," I conceded, "but at least I'll go down trying."

"You're an idiot," she snarled. "A suicidal, brain-damaged idiot with a death wish!"

"Probably," I agreed, standing up. "Thanks for the pep talk. I'll see you tomorrow in class, Kristi."

I passed through the privacy shield of the booth headed for the exit, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed me across the cafeteria. Behind me, I heard Kristi scramble out of the booth, her claws clicking rapidly against the floor as she caught up.

"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded, falling into step beside me.

"Home," I replied.

"Home?!"

"My grandfather's farm."

I pushed through the cafeteria doors into the late afternoon sunshine, quickening my pace ignoring the protests of my beat-up body. Kristi stayed right on my heels, her tall form looming in my peripheral vision.

"Why are you still here? I release you from your obligation, raptor bae," I said, scanning the parking lot for my car. "Consider yourself officially off human babysitting duty."

Kristi opened and closed her mouth.

I spotted the Tempest, its weathered black paint dull in the afternoon light, and made a beeline for it. Kristi followed, frustration practically radiating from her in waves of fluttering feathers.

"Alec. Go. Back. To. Kerberos." Each word was punctuated by a sharp gesture. "Get your schedule changed before it's too late!"

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"No."

"Arrrgh!" She grabbed my arm, spinning me to face her. "Why are you being so stubborn about this? Is your pride really worth more than your life?"

I looked down at her hand on my arm, then up at her eyes—those intense amber-gold irises that seemed to hold a miniature perpetual sunset within them.

"This isn't about pride," I said quietly. "This is about finding out what I'm capable of. I've been told my whole life that I'm worthless because of my level and skills. Maybe it's time I proved my family wrong."

"So you'll throw yourself off a cliff and break your neck just to prove a point?" she scoffed. "The fuck is wrong with you?! That's not bravery, Alec. That's stupidity."

"Then I guess I'm stupid," I replied, pulling away from her grasp and continuing toward my car.

She followed, muttering a stream of Slayer-adjacent curses under her breath. When I reached the Tempest and pulled out my keys, her patience finally snapped.

"You brain-dead, self-destructive, stubborn knob!" she exploded. "Is this some kind of twisted death wish? Because if you want to die so badly, I can arrange it right here, right now, and save us both a lot of trouble!"

I unlocked the car door and slid inside, ignoring her tirade. The Tempest groaned to life when I turned the key, its ancient engine coughing twice before settling into its familiar rumble.

"We're not done talking about this!" Kristi declared, planting herself directly in front of the car, arms crossed, feet firmly planted.

"Move," I said, rolling down the window so she could hear me.

"Make me."

I put the car in reverse, backed up a few feet, then shifted into drive and swerved around her, gunning the engine as I passed. In my rearview mirror, I saw her standing there, momentarily stunned.

"There we go, see ya later, raptor-ta..." I began. Kristi launched herself after me with predatory speed, taking off from zero to however many miles an hour a raptor delver could manage in a chase.

I pressed on the gas and she accelerated too, digitigrade legs and feathery arms flashing, resembling the scene from Terminator two.

Suddenly she was gone from my rearview mirror. A heavy thud landed on the roof of my car, denting the metal inward. Clawed fingers appeared at the edge of my driver's side window, followed by Kristi's upside-down face, emerald feathers rippling in the wind.

"STOP THIS CAR RIGHT NOW!" she roared.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?" I yelled back, the car swerving as I tried to keep control while a raptor clung to my roof. "GET OFF!"

"NOT UNTIL YOU STOP BEING AN IDIOT!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE RIDING ON TOP OF A MOVING VEHICLE!"

I slowed down, intending to shout at her more effectively, which turned out to be a tactical error. With the window open, Kristi seized her opportunity. In a fluid motion that defied both physics and common sense, she swung her body through the open window, somehow folding her entire frame into the car without releasing her grip on the roof with her talons.

For a terrifying moment, she was halfway through the window, her tail whipping in the wind outside while her upper body invaded my personal space. I slammed on the brakes, and she tumbled the rest of the way in, landing awkwardly across my lap before climbing over me and maneuvering herself into the passenger seat.

We both sat there for a moment, breathing hard. Kristi's feathers were disheveled, her priorly immaculate appearance ruffled by the impromptu car stunt. Despite everything, I couldn't help but notice how the sunlight filtering through the windshield caught the iridescent patterns in her scales, shifting between emerald and violet like a thousand gems and sending rainbows dancing across the car interior.

"That," I finally managed, "was nuts. What the shit?"

"Says the human who thinks he can survive Advanced Dungeoneering with no equipment," she retorted, smoothing her feathers with quick, irritated movements.

"At least I'm only endangering myself," I pointed out. "You could have caused an accident!"

"Oh please, we both know this rust bucket can't go fast enough to cause any real damage. Most cars and buildings in town are armed with personal barrier shields." She kicked at the dashboard with one clawed foot. "Unlike this mundane old junk. I'm surprised it still runs at all."

"Leave my Pontiac alone," I growled. "She might not be a fanciful Strand Glider, but she's gotten me this far."

"Where are you even going?" she demanded.

"I told you - to my grandfather's place," I said, pulling back onto the road with a sigh. "I need to get settled in before tomorrow's suicide mission. Maybe borrow some cash if he has such."

"And where exactly is this grandfather of yours?"

I pulled out my phone and showed her the address that my mother had given me. "Old Foster Farm on Blackwater Road."

Kristi's eyes widened as she looked at the screen. "...The old farm? On Blackwater Road?"

"You know it?"

"Everyone knows it," she said, her voice strangely muted. "It's... got a reputation."

"What kind of reputation?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"A bad one," she replied simply, her claws tapping nervously against her thigh. "It's past the town's barrier shield."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that it's not protected from random flying Systemfall bullshit," she said, gesturing vaguely toward the sky. "The town's defensive magitek barrier doesn't extend that far. It's in the wild zone."

"Lovely," I muttered. "Any other good news?"

"Well," she drew out the word, "there are rumors about your grandfather."

"Like?"

"Like he's completely insane," she said bluntly. "People say he sees things that aren't there, talks to himself, builds weird contraptions from junk. The local kids call him 'Crazy Dan' and dare each other to approach his property."

"Sounds about right," I sighed. "You know, you don't have to come with me. You're welcome to leave."

"No." She hissed angrily. "I'm not going fucking anywhere until you see sense, contact the principal and ask to be transferred to Dungeoneering 101 curriculum."

"Then we're at an impasse," I shrugged, pulling my phone out of my pants and placing it in the dashboard drink holder. "How would I even contact him? I don't have his number."

Kristi grabbed my phone and started to type furiously into it. I regretted not having a password.

"There," she said. "I've added his number in so that you can call him and..."

"Nope."

"But..."

"No."

"Ughhh." She shoved the phone back into the cup holder. "You're impossible."

I shrugged as my reply.

We drove in uncomfortable silence for a while, the landscape gradually changing from the manicured perfection of Ferguson's center to something wilder, more unkempt. The paved road gave way to gravel, then to dirt as we passed through a series of black towering obelisks covered in gold celesteel runes that marked the edge of the town's protective barrier.

I could feel the moment we crossed the threshold—a slight pressure change, like descending too quickly in an airplane. My ears popped as I yawned.

"Turn right at the fork," Kristi directed, pointing ahead. "The farm should be about two miles down that road."

I followed her directions, the Tempest bouncing and rattling over the increasingly rough terrain. The road narrowed, hemmed in by dense birch and pine forest on both sides. Twisted trees crowded close to the path, their branches reaching overhead like grasping fingers, creating a tunnel of dappled shadows.

"How do you know the way?" I asked, navigating around a particularly deep pothole.

"I've been dared to go there when I was younger. Plus my father owns most of the land around here," she replied. "Including the parcel adjacent to your grandfather's property. He's been trying to buy Foster Farm for years, but your grandfather refused to sell."

"Why does your father want it?"

Kristi shrugged. "I dunno. Our family already owns like a third of the town already, maybe more."

The trees around us suddenly lost all of their leaves, becoming dry, blackened husks. The grass and weeds were suddenly gone too, as if someone traced a perfect line between living forest and an area where absolutely nothing living grew for some reason.

"What the fuck," I muttered, looking back at the line of green forest behind us and feeling an unnerving sense of foreboding doom.

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