When Tallah collapsed, Vergil screamed. Sil was right besides him, kneeling next to the sorceress, two fingers pressed to her throat.

"Strong heartbeat," the healer declared, then tilted back Tallah's head and opened one of her eyes. "Pupils reacting. There's eye movement. I'd like to say she's just asleep but I highly doubt it."

"What's happening?" Vergil croaked out.

The pain in his chest was unbearable, the words carving themselves into his flesh without pause. There had been just the slightest hesitation when Tallah collapsed, but the torture resumed.

Worst of all, it felt familiar and he couldn't understand why. Dread set in his bones and it had nothing to do with the agonising pain.

"I've no idea what's happening," Sil said. She prodded at Vergil and Tallah's conjoined hands. "Do you feel anything? See anything?"

Vergil hissed as another bloody line opened on his chest, then twirled into a complex shape. "It fucking hurts. I feel that." He blinked away tears. "Otherwise, everything's quiet. The dwarf. The thing speaking to me. Argia's in error. Sil, I'm scared."

"Trust in Tallah. If she and the ghosts are active, she'll pull you through."

He swallowed thickly, trying to steady himself and really believe the sorceress would pull through. Sil pressed a hand to his shoulder, her grip firm, the touch of her skin nearly cool. She slit open a rend and began rummaging inside with her free hand.

"Breathe with me," she said while her face kept twisting in displeasure while she searched. "Nice and slow. Panic's not going to help us. Where in the blazes… I should still have some poppy somewhere."

Hard to breathe slow and calm when she herself was anything but. Vergil opened his mouth to say just that when a shadow darkened the sky.

It was followed by a powerful gust of wind that almost knocked him down on his back. He braced himself awkwardly with his free arm, and cutting pain lanced through him as the wounds shifted.

Their attention flew upward, and Vergil gaped as he stared, for the first time from this up close, at the gigantic shape of the dragon.

It descended like a meteor, wings spread out, talons glistening, belly wet with misty condensation. It beat its wings one more time to slow itself, then landed heavily on the rocky slope of the mountain. Stones tumbled as the great lizard advanced, powerful legs crossing the terrain easily.

People screamed down in the camp, groups running as rocks tumbled, some of them larger than a man.

The dragon roared and black smoke billowed from its maw. Vergil could do nothing but stare in wonder, vainly trying to push back a shudder. The beast hadn't seemed this large from up on the Rock's wall. A man could easily fit inside its mouth and be swallowed whole. The beast wouldn't even choke.

Sil was on her feet, her weapon shining with the power of her goddess.

"Get people back," she screamed towards Liosse and Vilfor. "Move. Get them far away from this hill."

"Sil?" Vergil asked. "Do I pick her up and run?" He tried to stand, but Tallah was a dead weight attached to the end of his arm. "I can cut my arm off. Do you think that would help?"

"That would be a terrible idea right now."

The dragon loomed, its massive shadow spreading down into the camp. A deep rumble echoed in its chest. The air around it grew hot and smelled of overheated rocks and burning dust.

"Sit. Back. Down." Sil didn't look away from the lizard. "If it wants us dead, we die. Just sit down."

Easy for her to say! She was armed and standing her ground. Vergil was surgically bonded to Tallah and he couldn't even move well enough to draw his axe. Though he'd seen what dragon fire could do, and he very much doubted Sil's barriers could help against it.

The dragon's head turned from side to side, as if taking in the scene. A forked tongue slithered out from its maw, flicking at the air slowly. Vergil got the distinct impression that the creature was searching for something. Had it felt what was going on?

Could it help?

As if sensing his thoughts, the dragon lowered its head and its great yellow eyes settled first on Sil, then on Vergil. And intense feeling of anger washed off the beast, as if whatever was happening was an affront to its senses. Its rolling grumble took on a different note, rising and lowering in pitch, as if it was mumbling to itself.

"Where the fuck are you, Luna?" Vergil whispered, not able to tear his eyes away from the slitted irises.

Sil still held her ground even as the air began to sizzle as it wafted off the dragon. She was standing straight-backed and defiant, but even she couldn't hide the tremble in her knees. The beast raised its head and spread its wings, gusts of air sending Sil's hair fluttering in all direction.

The pain kept coming at Vergil. Already the text covered half of his torso. He was bleeding profusely and there was darkness at the edges of his vision.

"Sil… I think I need a tonic," he said, feeling his breath grow shallower. "It's hard to stay awake." He wiped at the blood at his chest and winced both in pain and horror at how deep the cuts felt.

The dragon reacted. It reached out with a taloned paw, over Sil's head, to Vergil. It touched him with the back of a claw and, incredibly gently for a creature that size, it pushed him over to lie on his back, Tallah sprawled next to him.

It rumbled as it studied the bloody text. Again that forked tongue slithered out and flicked towards Vergil, drawing back suddenly as if stung.

Vergil didn't dare move. The claw hovered above his chest, sharp and large enough that it could disembowel him in a heartbeat. He could barely breathe.

Then the paw pulled away and the dragon drew back a step. It plunged the claw into the earth and began digging.

Sil appeared above Vergil, a flask in one hand, the mace in the other. She pulled out the stopper with her teeth and pressed the flask to lips. He drank like a man dying of thirst, not daring to rise.

From where he lay, he could still see the dragon as it dug the earth with careful, controlled strokes.

"What's it doing?" Vergil asked. The tonic bubbled in his stomach and began working quickly, fresh strength flooding his veins.

"I have no bloody clue," Sil answered.

She rose and disappeared form his field of view. A deep growl echoed moments later.

Vergil lifted his head—

"Well, that's interesting," a new voice spoke right in his ear.

He startled and turned his head, but there was nobody there aside from Tallah's insensate form.

"I'm in your head, dolt," the voice spoke again. "Save your strength and get ready. We're about to severely ruin a god's day and you're going to be front and centre for it all."

"Who are you? What do you want?" He looked about but there was really no one there. "Wh-where are you?"

"Was I not clear?" the voice answered, impatient and annoyed.

Sil was a few paces away, watching intently as the dragon worked. The lizard stopped for a moment, raised its claw. It pointed at what it had been drawing, then at Sil, and finally pressed that razor-sharp tip to Vergil's chest, right on the edges of what was being carved into him. Vergil forgot how to breathe until the claw pulled away, only its tip stained with the ruby-red of his blood.

"They're runes," Sil gasped. "They're binding runes. I—" She inclined her head as if to get a better view. "Vergil, I need to carve these into you. I think that's what it wants."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Someone's talking to me," Vergil called to her. "I don't see anyone."

"My name's Anna, boy. Tell Silestra not to panic when you'll faint. Tell her to do whatever. Here, we're about ready to begin."

Vergil obeyed before Sil turned her attention to him. "Says she's Anna. I'm about to faint. She says you shouldn't panic."

"Good boy," the voice praised him.

"Vergil, do you want me to do this?" Sil asked, words coming out in a rush. "Do you want to trust the dragon?"

Was she asking for permission? His breathing again grew shallow as pressure built up inside his head, as if too much was being crammed in there.

"Do it," he said. "May as well. What's the worst that could happen?"

The dragon had fought with them. Tallah had held back on her final attack just to make sure it had cleared the battlefield and wouldn't be in her line of fire. If it was here, now, he didn't expect it meant them harm.

Probably.

He wanted to say all that, assure Sil and take the burden of decision from her.

There was no more time for words. The world fell away and Vergil plummeted inside his own skull, feeling as if he'd had reality yanked out from under his feet.

"Got him!"

Firm hands caught him as he fell, and the voice that spoke was familiar. But he was nowhere now, could see nothing around himself, and couldn't move. The impression of being held was just that… an impression.

"Focus, boy," Anna spoke in his ear. "See yourself."

"How?" No lips moved to make the sound, yet it came from him. "I don't understand." A new kind of panic swelled out and for a moment the world filled with ratmen hissing pawing for him.

"Stop that," Anna said again, and the darkness resumed. "We don't have time for you to understand. Just obey."

He felt as if the presence shook him, though… how?

"Imagine yourself, Vergil. Imagine you are sitting in the comfortable room at the Meadow, in the chair. Do you remember the chair?" This was another voice, speaking in his other ear. It was much nicer than Anna's, though it also held the edge of impatience.

He nodded—or thought that he did—and then tried to do as instructed. Through the pain—faded now, but not gone—and the fear of Tallah's collapsing, it was hard to remember the Meadow. But he remembered the feel of the chair. And the heat from the fireplace. The lingering complex scents from Sil's alchemical compounds. And the rustle of Tallah's books, the scratch of her quill on paper.

As if summoned from the folds of memory, the room materialised around him. And he found himself in the high-backed chair where he'd taken his first meal and where Sil had questioned him all those weeks before. He remembered their first moment with frightening clarity, probably the first real memory he'd been allowed since arriving on Edana.

He looked down and was met by the sight of his hands. Callouses pockmarked his fingers. White scars crisscrossed his knuckles. He drew a deep breath and realised he could breathe again, feel the air in his lungs, smell the memory.

"Good," the nicer voice said. "I'll have Tallah praise you later."

He turned his head to find the source. Two women stood next to him. One of them was frighteningly tall, even taller than he, with a severe face and an even more severe bun of dark, reddish hair. Her face was all angles and frowns. Black eyes regarded him with a mixture of worry and wariness.

The other woman was shorter, stick-thin, and stark naked.

Vergil's cheeks caught fire and he looked away.

"Summon your weapons," the tall voice demanded.

Was that Christina? Tallah's ghost? She looked a little like Tallah herself, but the voice was softer, almost motherly in a way.

"What's happening?" he asked, still not turning to look at the pair of them.

"What's happening is that you've got an invader in your head," Anna answered. "Tallah's keeping him company, and we've hidden from his attention. Far as he knows, we're subdued."

"This is too much to explain, but you're a bright boy," the other one said without a hint of sarcasm. "Anna and I have dropped under your subconscious layer and have made our crawling way into your consciousness. We've dragged you from your surface so you can guide us back."

"I have no idea what you mean," he protested. "I didn't understand a word you said."

"So much for Tallah's high opinion of your faculties," the woman sneered, all patience gone. "I'll tell you what to do, but we must hurry. Where's that dwarf of yours?"

As if rising from the room's very woodwork, Horvath appeared next to the women. He was wider than the two of them put together, but barely reached up to Anna's chest in height.

"'ere," the dwarf said as he strolled forward to put a hand on Vergil's shoulder. "I'll explain it t' ye later. Now, we've a smug bastard t' punch 'n th' face."

"Who's invading?" Vergil asked as he rose from the chair, finally daring to look Anna's way.

If she was uncomfortable, she didn't show it. The child Anna from the Rock had looked human. The ghost Anna looked anything but. Her features were wrong. The arms too long. The legs too thin. Her face was reptilian in some way, the nose too small and almost flat, her nostrils barely slits, and her eyes yellow and imposing. When she smiled, only needle teeth showed.

"Stop gawking, boy. You aren't any more pleasant a sight," Anna sneered. "Imagine your weapons and call them forth. You know them well enough by now."

He had only to think of Promise and Biter, and both weapons dropped into his hands, as real as if he held the genuine articles. Everything felt so real even if, on a deep level, he understood this was all a dream.

"Who's invaded me?"

Travelling with Tallah and Sil had taught him one very valuable lesson: however absurd a situation sounded, there was no point questioning it. That only wasted time and, as Tallah was fond of saying, no other time serves you as better as the current.

"Some smug twat called Ryder," Anna said. "He's doing something to you while Tallah's talking to him. We don't know what. Didn't have a chance to ask."

Vergil placed a hand on his chest and didn't feel the cuts anymore. "Something's being carved into me," he said. "The dragon's come and teaching Sil something. I think it's to counter it. I hope…"

"Fine moment it chose," Christina said. She was passing through different forms. One heartbeat she was human, the next she was made of jagged light, then the two combined.

Anna next to her seemed distracted, her eyes unfocused.

"He's probing my protections again," she said. Her eyes twitched. "He suspects. If we're hitting him, it should happen now."

Vergil met Horvath's crystal-clear eye and they nodded together. The dwarf had his massive war axe in hand and was equipped in the same battered heavy armour, ready for battle.

"Tell me what to do," said Vergil. "How do we hurt someone that's in my head?"

"Conceptually," Christina said. "You're here as an idea of yourself. It's why you look like that, all knobbly knees and elbows. Tallah needs to whip some common sense into you if that's how you view yourself."

Vergil almost looked down. He decided it wasn't worth it.

"And now in Imperial?" he demanded. "How do I conceptually hit this guy with my axe?"

As if on cue, the world shook and the image of the Meadow blurred around them. Anna groaned as if in pain.

"He's pushing harder. Talks big to Tallah, but he's wary of us."

"The sensible thing is to be wary of us," Christina said in a tone of voice that suggested fear of them was only natural. "Vergil, look within yourself. You can't see the level we were operating at, but you can feel this alien presence within. If he's the one responsible for your story, you'll find him easily. After that, whack him. I am maintaining your presence like this, so know that once I engage, my destruction will probably mean you getting shot back out. Until then, make every heartbeat count."

She mentioned her death so casually that blood ran cold in Vergil's imagined veins.

Horvath just nodded and grunted. "I'll keep ye safe, crone," the burly dwarf declared. "Dinnae fuss yerself."

"I have no idea what you said." Christina smiled nastily and her words buzzed. "I'll leave my safety to you. Get to doing, boy. If Ryder's even a little honest, he'll have to retreat rather than answer us with force. I've seen how he's come in. I can make sure he won't do that again."

Vergil's fists tightened around the hilts of his weapons. "But first we need to kick him out. Got it."

"Be aware," Christina said as she raised a finger, the very image of a calm teacher. "We are grossly outclassed by this creature. But we are not outmatched. Whatever you do, do not allow yourself to believe we cannot oust the bastard. We will not suffer his meddling in our affairs."

Vergil closed his eyes and did as instructed—he looked inward. And immediately felt an overwhelming anger burning with cold fire somewhere deep within. He knew the presence. His whole being recoiled away from it in revulsion, as if he was discovering a cancer in his gut. He wanted to face it and cast it out of him, a whole cocktail of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

His fists tightened on his weapons and he shook as he prodded deeper, trying to understand.

The invader had to go! That thought filled his head and he rallied to it, feeling himself vacillating between anger and fear.

"I think I have him," he said, not opening his eyes, pouring all his attention into the part of himself where he felt the anger blooming. He hoped to maintain it. "What now?"

Again, the world lurched. He felt it almost like a physical sensation, though rationally he could understand it was all happening just in the realm of his imagination. Even so, it all felt terribly real. His stomach dropped away, like standing in an elevator that had suddenly shaken loose.

"Do you bleed?" The voice was Tallah's

His eyes flew open just in time to see Horvath swinging his axe at a strange man's head. The sight of that man turned Vergil's courage to ash.

Horvath's axe bit into the man's thick neck… and did not pass through.

Vergil couldn't move. His breath stuck in his throat. Tears welled up in his eyes. Fear, more raw than he'd ever felt, smothered the flame of his anger down to nothing, all his wishes denied by the simple presence of the man who had taken his soul apart.

The man sighed. "I did once. Not anymore," he said, unbothered by the hunk of metal in his throat.

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