Time had become meaningless.

  Sam lay on his kitchen floor, or what had been his kitchen floor, or what he thought might still be his kitchen floor. He couldn't be sure anymore. The pain came in waves now—cresting and receding like a tide of molten glass flowing through his veins. Between the peaks, there were moments of almost-clarity where he could remember who he was. Sam. My name is Sam Pierce.

  But each wave eroded a little more of that identity.

  He caught sight of himself in the reflection of the glass oven door—warped and dim, but unmistakable. At first, he thought it was a trick of the darkened glass, some optical illusion born of pain and exhaustion. Then his reflection moved in a way his body hadn't. Couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

  His limbs were twisted to unnatural angles, joints bending in directions that human anatomy didn't allow. His bones seemed to have become malleable, his features sagging. The thing in the reflection looked less like Sam and more like a wax sculpture of Sam that had been left too close to a fire.

  Through the consuming agony, he distantly registered a sound. Knocking. Someone was knocking on his apartment door.

  No. Go away. Please go away.

  The knocking became banging. Louder and more insistent.

  When did the smoke detector start going off?

  The shrill electronic shriek drilled into his skull, and he realized dimly that he'd knocked the empty ground beef packaging onto the still-glowing burner when he'd tried—and failed—to stand. Smoke curled from the smoldering styrofoam tray and plastic wrap, acrid and chemical.

  A scraping sound. Metal on metal. Someone was using a key.

  "Sam?" A woman's voice—familiar, worried. Kate. His neighbor from 4B. They'd traded emergency keys months ago. "Sam, are you alright? I heard screaming and your smoke alarm—"

  No no no no no—

  Sam opened his mouth to call out—to scream—to warn her away—and felt his jaw lower impossibly far, unhinging like a snake's. Drool dribbled from the corners of his too-wide mouth. His stomach gurgled demandingly, a sound that was less hunger and more command.

  It was only then that he realized he could smell her. Not perfume or shampoo or any of the normal scents he associated with another person. He could smell Kate. The iron-rich pulse of blood moving through her veins. The salt of her skin. The warmth of living tissue, so close, so available—

  So, delicious…

  FEED!

  Hunger. Terror. Repulsion. Craving. The emotions crashed together in a nauseating whirlpool where each became indistinguishable from the other. Predatory instincts he'd never known he possessed warred with the screaming remnants of his humanity.

  FEED!

  "Sam? I'm coming in, okay?" Kate's voice was scared now, and Sam felt something that might have been excitement surge through him—a dark, twisted thrill at her fear that made him want to either vomit or climax.

  I can't let her see me like this.

  FEED!

  I don't want to hurt her!

  FEED!

  I'm not sure I can stop myself!

  FEED!

  The impulses battled for control of a body that no longer felt like his own. Fight. Feed. Flee. Hide. One won out.

  HIDE.

  A flailing, amorphous limb—had that been his arm? His leg? Or some new appendage?—collided with his refrigerator. And then, with a wet GLURP that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, Sam's body changed.

  For just an instant, the agony subsided. His flesh stopped screaming. His bones stopped grinding against themselves. He felt almost peaceful as his form settled into something new, something stable and still—

  He was the refrigerator.

  Not hiding behind it. Not pressed against it. He was it. Every surface, every angle, every detail—the scuffed white exterior, the dented corner from when he'd moved in, the collection of takeout menus held by novelty magnets. He could feel the cold of the empty interior, the hum of the compressor, and the slight wobble of the bottom shelf.

  The pain had stopped. But not the hunger. Never the hunger.

  Sitting right beside him in the kitchen was the original. He wasn’t even sure how he could see that—did he have eyes still—but he could all the same. He could see all around himself at once. The apartment door opened wider, and Kate's head peeked inside. Her eyes swept the small space—the smoke detector still shrieking, the smoldering mess on the stove, the scattered debris of Sam's old life. Her gaze passed over the refrigerator without a flicker of recognition.

  "Sam?" she called again, stepping fully inside now. "Oh god, something's burning—"

  She moved toward the stove, passing within arm's reach of him in his new form.

  So close.

  He could smell her so clearly now. Could hear the rabbit-quick flutter of her heartbeat. Could sense the warmth radiating from her body like a beacon in the dark.

  So hungry.

  So very, very hungry.

  Kate turned off the burner and grabbed a dish towel, waving it at the smoke detector. She was muttering to herself, something about calling 911, about checking the bathroom, about where the hell was Sam. Then Kate turned to survey the apartment again and paused as she noticeably took in the fact that there were two refrigerators sitting in the itty-bitty kitchen. She frowned at the sight.

  Inside his refrigerator shape, something that used to be Sam squeezed its eyes shut and tried very, very hard not to move. Tried to hold himself back, and at the same time knew that he couldn’t for long.

  ***

  The integration pain faded slowly, leaving behind the lingering ache of a body that had been rebuilt from the inside out. Pablo opened his eyes to find himself still seated at the hexagonal table, his hands pressed against the golden orb that had now gone dormant.

  Around him, the others were recovering at varying rates. Sasha rolled her shoulders, grimacing but upright. Eden had her eyes closed, breathing slowly through what looked like the tail end of a meditation technique. Zoe was pale—her various tattoos standing out in stark contrast—but steady. Warren was the first to speak.

  "Well, that sucked less than I expected."

  "You only had four points," Zoe muttered. "Try twelve."

  "Hatchlings, please." Delta's avatar loomed beside the table. "If you're all quite finished whining, perhaps we could discuss the rather urgent matters at hand?"

  Pablo straightened in his chair, pushing the residual discomfort aside.

  "Everyone functional?" he asked.

  Nods around the table.

  "Good. Quick rundown of major upgrades—anything the team needs to know about for tactical purposes. Keep it brief."

  "I pushed my Agility to 5," Zoe said. "Silent Flight and Hush Field for overall stealthiness, better Air Control, and a couple of new tricks; Kinetic Air Burst for attacks, Solid Air to make constructs for utility."

  "Stamina and Might bumps for me," Sasha added. "Extended my armor's uptime by 50% with a capacitor enhancement, upgraded my Tremor Sense to Seismic Sense, it’ll work through any solid surface now, not just earth. And—" A small smile crossed her face. "—I can summon a rock duplicate of myself."

  "A what?" Warren blinked.

  "A stone statue with a diminished version of my combat stats. It can take hits, flank enemies, and otherwise assist." Sasha shrugged. "Seemed useful."

  “Girl, I’m not sure the world is ready for two Sashas.” Zoe flashed a grin.

  "That's terrifying, and I love it," Warren said.

  Eden spoke next, her voice soft but steady. "I focused on support. Pushed Awareness to 5—highest on the team now. Added Empathy, so I can sense emotions around me. Aetheric Light lets me restore energy reserves, not just health. And I picked up some medical knowledge downloads and a few utility powers—Water Scrying for remote viewing, Water Slick for area denial."

  "Wait." Zoe held up a hand. "You can sense emotions now? Like, all the time?"

  "Within range, yes." Eden met her gaze steadily. "I can feel that you're uncomfortable with that idea. It's okay. I won't pry."

  Zoe's expression flickered through several emotions before settling on something like resigned acceptance. "Fine. Just...give me a heads up before you go poking around in my feelings."

  “There’s no influence, just perception." Eden's smile was gentle. "Think of it like seeing someone's facial expression. I can tell you're stressed, but I don't automatically know why."

  “Our very own Counselor Troi. That’s bad ass.” Sasha nodded.

  "Moving on," Pablo said, before the conversation could spiral. "I upgraded my Metal Control range and capacity, added some alternatives with Liquefy Metal, and Degauss for electronics disruption. Iron Fortitude gives me immunity to disease, poison, and the need for sleep. And I streamlined my Aetheric Smite activation."

  "You don't need to sleep anymore?" Sasha asked, and even without an Empathy power, he could sense her concern.

  "I can still sleep. I just don't have to." Pablo shrugged. "Seemed useful for extended operations."

  "That's deeply unfair, and I'm jealous," Zoe quipped.

  "Warren," Pablo turned to face his friend. "What did you take?"

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  "Picked up an alternate effect for my Fire Control—Snuff Flames. Figured if I can start fires, I should be able to put them out too." Warren shrugged. "Also grabbed Aetheric Splendor from the Paladin array. Gives me a Presence boost when I need it, and I bumped Awareness by one point."

  "An Awareness bump?" Pablo asked, knowing that it hadn’t been high on the progression plan they’d first worked out, despite it being a secondary stat for the fire affinity.

  "Yeah, well." Warren rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed. "Figured maybe I should learn to look before I leap. Notice threats before they're already on top of me. That kind of thing."

  Pablo noted the slight defensiveness in Warren's tone but didn't comment. It was a reasonable allocation, actually—more thoughtful than he'd expected given Warren's recent track record.

  "Good choices," he said simply. Warren blinked, clearly having expected criticism.

  "Now then," Delta's voice cut in, "if the mutual admiration society has concluded its proceedings, perhaps we could address the multiple converging crises looming before us?"

  "What's the latest on Murphy?" Pablo asked.

  "Still asleep in her hotel room, as of seventeen seconds ago. The GPS spoofing appears to be working flawlessly."

  “That will hopefully buy us some room to operate, while Murphy chases our ghosts.”

  "Yes, but it only kicks the proverbial can down the road. Which is why I suggest we prioritize ruthlessly." Delta's avatar paced along the edge of the table, its tail swishing behind it. "You have several matters to address in addition to Agent Murphy's investigation, the damage at the veterinary clinic has created quite the local stir, the Winter Medusa and her unknown mistress, and whatever larger pattern connects them all."

  "Don't forget Rowan and Sam," Eden added quietly. "They need scans. Delta, you said Sam's situation might be dangerous—"

  "Ah, yes. The randomized integration." Delta's tone shifted slightly. "I had intended to examine him this morning. His condition is...concerning. The Vivisectionist's experiments, combined with the aetheric saturation, created an unpredictable fusion. He could be adapting smoothly, or he could be undergoing progressive cellular mutation. Without proper analysis, I cannot say which."

  The table fell silent.

  "Getting Sam in this morning will be a top priority, but shouldn’t require the entire team," Pablo said.

  “What’re we going to do about the clinic?” Eden asked.

  “I’ve already accessed and altered the clinic’s security footage along with all other web accessible cameras in the area,” Delta said.

  “I’m not sure there’s much else we can do, except try to keep our heads down,” Pablo sighed. “You, Sam, and Rowan will likely get interviewed—being the staff that closed up last night—but I don’t see any reason why the police should suspect you of being involved.”

  “I concur. From digital traffic I’ve intercepted. The local constabulary are hypothesizing that drug addicts were trying to obtain pharmaceuticals,” Delta supplied. “They still haven’t gathered footage from the area, and my alterations were tailored to support their hypothesis.”

  Pablo noticed visible expressions of relief around the table and felt at least one of the knots of tension in his back begin to relax.

  “That was good initiative, Delta. Thank you,” Pablo said. "Warren, you recovered something from your fight with the Medusa. A key fob?"

  "Yeah." Warren produced the small device from his pocket and set it on the table. "I think she dropped it during our fight. Figured it might be useful."

  A beam of light lanced out from one of the data-sculpture consoles, scanning the key fob.

  "The encryption is laughably primitive by my standards," Delta murmured. "The fob belongs to a penthouse unit in a high-rise condominium complex in San Francisco. The building is called The Meridian."

  "That's where she lives?" Sasha asked.

  "Unknown. But it's where she has access." Delta's avatar waved a claw, and a holographic display materialized above the table—building schematics, ownership records, a web of connections. "I've traced the ownership through seven shell corporations, three offshore trusts, and a remarkably convoluted series of holding companies. The kind of paper trail specifically designed to frustrate law enforcement inquiries."

  "But not you," Zoe said.

  "Please. It was mildly diverting." Delta snorted. "The trail ultimately leads to an entity called Omniscience AI Incorporated."

  Pablo frowned. "That name sounds..."

  "Ominous? Pretentious? Vaguely threatening?" Delta offered. "Yes to all three. The company appears to be a legitimate artificial intelligence research firm, at least on paper. Venture funding, academic partnerships, a sleek website full of meaningless buzzwords. But their actual operations are remarkably opaque, even to me."

  "Any connection to the disappearances Warren was tracking?"

  "Nothing obvious. But the Medusa having access to property owned by this company does suggest a level of organization beyond a simple serial predator."

  Warren leaned forward. "So we hit the penthouse. Kick in the door, see what we find—"

  "And alert whoever owns it that we're onto them?" Pablo shook his head. "We need to be smarter than that."

  "Pablo's right," Sasha said. "If we go in blind, we might spook them into covering their tracks. Or walk ourselves into a trap."

  Warren's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.

  “With Murphy off our butts for the moment, we’ll go into the city for observation and reconnaissance today,” Pablo said. “We’ll take this one step at a time and as a team.”

  "There's something else," Eden said quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. She was staring at her hands, folded on the table in front of her. "Something I need to tell you all."

  "Eden?" Pablo prompted gently.

  "The dungeon opening at the clinic." She took a breath. "I think... I think I might be responsible for it."

  "What do you mean?" Zoe asked carefully.

  "I've been using my powers at work. Small amounts. Healing animals when no one was looking—speeding up their recovery, easing their pain. I've been doing it for weeks." Eden's voice was barely above a whisper. "Delta told us that using powers in one location can damage the aetheric boundary. Fray the fabric of the universe. I think my repeated use of powers in the same spot might have weakened the barrier enough for the dungeon to break through."

  She looked up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Rowan and Sam were taken because of me. Everything that happened in that dungeon, and since then—all of it—I think it might be my fault."

  The table was quiet for a long moment. Pablo watched the emotions play across his friends' faces—surprise, concern, and something that might have been relief that they finally had an explanation.

  "Eden—" he began.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry. I just wanted to help. The animals. They were in pain, and I could fix it, and I didn't think—"

  "Eden." Delta's voice cut through her spiraling guilt, unusually gentle. "While your theory is not unreasonable given the information available to you, I'm afraid it may be incorrect."

  She looked up, startled. "What?"

  "I had initially reached a similar conclusion. Your repeated aetheric activity in one location could theoretically weaken dimensional barriers, particularly on a world as early in its integration cycle as Earth." The dragon's avatar settled onto its haunches, expression contemplative. "However, I was monitoring your use of power. You were judicious in your efforts, to say the least. My calculations say that you shouldn’t have been anywhere near damaging the local barrier, not unless there was other significant aetheric activity in the immediate vicinity."

  "What kind of significant activity are we talking about?" Pablo asked, his tone flat.

  "To say more, I need to examine the dungeon’s core directly to be certain. Pablo, if you would?"

  Pablo hesitated for only a moment before reaching into his Inventory. The dungeon core materialized in his hands—a crystalline sphere pulsing with swirling green and purple energy, still encased in its strange wire cage. He could sense the raw power thrumming through the spherical core. Judging by the sudden body shifting that rippled out through the others around the table, his friends could sense it as well.

  Gingerly, Pablo set the core on the table. A beam of light lanced down from the miniature sun overhead, enveloping the core in a cylinder of illumination. Delta's avatar leaned forward, eyes blazing as he analyzed the object.

  "Fascinating," the dragon said. "The internal energy patterns are consistent with a standard wild dungeon core. The aetheric resonance suggests approximately three to four weeks of active growth before extraction. However, the wire structure surrounding it is—"

  Delta stopped.

  The core began to pulse. Not the gentle, rhythmic throb it had displayed seconds before, but a rapid, urgent strobe of teeth rattling power. The wires encasing it started to glow—first faint, then brighter, then blazing with an energy that made Pablo's Metal Sense scream in warning.

  "Delta?" Sasha's voice was sharp with alarm.

  The dragon's avatar flickered rapidly before it destabilized and vanished entirely.

  "Get..." Delta's voice came out strangled and urgent. "It... away..."

  The miniature sun at the apex of the command garden’s ceiling went out.

  The only light in the chamber was the strobing brilliance of the dungeon core itself. Pablo heard his friends cry out in shock and alarm. During the intermittent waves of darkness, Pablo couldn't see his own hands. Couldn't see anything until the hellish glow of the pulsing core blinked back, painting everything in strobing purple and green.

  Rising from his chair, Pablo lunged for the core, relying on his metal attuned mind where his eyes might have been unreliable. Pain seared through his palms as he grabbed it. The wire cage burned against his skin, aetheric energy crackling through his nervous system like lightning. He couldn’t just run outside with it. Delta’s interior was some other layer of reality that his technology transported them to.

  Only one option. Pablo gritted his teeth against a scream and pushed—forcing the core into his Inventory through sheer will.

  The core vanished.

  Slowly, light returned to the command garden as the miniature sun overhead rekindled.

  Pablo fell back in his chair, gasping, staring at his hands. Angry red welts traced across his palms where the wires had touched him. Around the table, his friends were in various states of alarm—Sasha had risen entirely from her seat, Zoe with Gale summoned to her hand, Warren's fists wreathed in flickering flames, Eden reaching toward him with healing light already gathering at her fingertips.

  "Delta?" Pablo called into the silence. "Delta, respond!"

  Nothing.

  The garden was quiet. The data-sculpture consoles had gone dark. The swirling mist in the central egg had stilled. Even the alien plants seemed to have dimmed, their bioluminescent leaves limp.

  "Oh god," Eden breathed. "Is he—did it—"

  Pablo felt a twist of dread. Without Delta, they might be trapped inside his pocket dimension.

  A groan echoed through the chamber.

  Delta's avatar flickered back to life above the table—but wrong. The dragon's holographic form was blurred at the edges, his silver scales dulled to pewter, his eyes flickering between their usual cold intelligence and something that looked almost like fear.

  "That," Delta said hoarsely, "was deeply unpleasant."

  "What happened?" Pablo demanded. "What the hell was that?"

  "An attack." Delta's voice quavered. "The wire cage around the core—it's not a container. It's an interface. An external control mechanism designed to overwrite the core's native Nexus programming."

  "Someone made the dungeon open there," Zoe said with certainty while Pablo was still digesting the information. "On purpose."

  "Precisely." Delta's avatar shuddered, a disturbingly organic gesture. "The cage allowed someone to seed the dungeon in this layer of reality—to plant it, activate it, and force a dungeon portal to open in that specific location. It explains why the entrance expanded so rapidly, why the dungeon creatures were able to launch an immediate incursion. Someone deployed the dungeon intentionally."

  "But who—" Warren started.

  "There's more." Delta cut him off. "The interface contained something else. A payload. Something analogous to what you all might call a computer virus, specifically designed to target constructs like myself." The dragon's eyes blazed with a mixture of fury and embarrassment. "If I had attempted to absorb the core directly—as would be standard procedure for processing dungeon cores—it would have destroyed me. Completely. Permanently."

  The stunned silence that followed was long and absolute.

  "You're saying," Pablo said slowly, "that someone meant for us to find the dungeon, defeat it, and ideally bring the core to you. Someone wanted you to absorb it."

  "Someone wanted me dead, yes." Delta's tone was brittle. "The only reason I survived is that I chose to scan the core first rather than immediately integrate it. In the microsecond between the virus activating and reaching my core processes, I had to invent and implement defensive protocols—you’d call them firewalls—from scratch, because I didn't even know an attack like this was possible."

  "Who could do something like that?" Eden asked. "Who has that kind of knowledge?"

  "That is the question, isn't it?" Delta's avatar flickered again, still unstable. "This technology—the seeding device, the virus—it's authentic Nexus engineering used in a way I would have thought impossible."

  "Like Velgrin hacking our Status Screens," Zoe said grimly.

  "Exactly like that, yes." Delta nodded. "Which suggests an uncomfortable conclusion. Whoever did this has access to Nexus systems at a fundamental level. The kind of access that should only be available to Elder Primes."

  "I thought the Primes were extinct," Pablo said.

  "They are. Which means either I'm wrong about that, or someone has gained access to Prime-level technology through other means." Delta's expression was haunted. "Neither possibility is comforting."

  Before anyone could respond, Delta's avatar suddenly stiffened. The dragon's eyes flared bright, head snapping toward something none of them could see.

  "What now?" Warren groaned.

  "A 911 call was placed four minutes ago from an apartment complex in Napa," Delta said rapidly. "A resident reported screaming from a neighboring unit, followed by a smoke detector activation." Delta paused. "The address is Sam's apartment."

  The blood drained from Pablo's face.

  "Fire, police, and EMS are all en route," Delta continued. "Estimated arrival in seven minutes."

  "Sam." Eden was already on her feet. "Something's happened to Sam."

  "We don't know that," Pablo said, even as his gut twisted with certainty. "He could have—"

  "He could have been targeted," Sasha cut in. "Same as Delta was. Someone's been watching us. Setting traps. What if Sam was next?"

  "Or what if his condition deteriorated?" Eden's voice cracked. "Delta, you said he might be unstable. What if he—"

  "Speculation is pointless," Pablo said, forcing calm into his voice even as his mind raced through worst-case scenarios. "We need to get there. Now."

  "The rest of you will take too long by car," Zoe said, rising from her chair with Gale still in hand. "I can fly there in minutes."

  "Zoe—"

  "I'm the fastest, Pablo. You know I am." She met his eyes, and there was no challenge in her gaze—just determination. "I'll assess the situation, keep Sam safe if he needs it, and delay the emergency responders if I have to. The rest of you follow as fast as you can."

  Pablo hesitated for only a heartbeat. She was right. They all knew she was right.

  "Go," he said. "But be careful. We don't know what you're walking into."

  "I was born careful." Zoe flashed him an excited grin and gave Gale a showy little twirl before Delta transported her away in a flash of light back to Delta’s hidden cave on their home layer of reality.