The research facility emerged from the morning mist like a strange hybrid of nature and ambition - all clean stone lines grafted onto the cliff face's wild geometry. The morning light caught stone and brass, making the structure gleam like a giant had scattered diamonds across the rock.

  "Well," Thristle muttered, squinting at the building through her crossbow's sight, "at least it's not obviously evil. No skull decorations or anything."

  "Do you recognize it?" Seraphina's voice carried that particular neutrality that meant she was watching very carefully.

  "Not this one specifically." Thristle lowered her crossbow, fingers drumming nervously against the stock. "But the style... way the steam pipes are arranged." She gestured at the brass tubes snaking up the cliff face. "Saw something similar in Port Sallow. Before it mysteriously burned down." She smirked. "Though this one's much bigger. More established."

  Vesper's surface churned with darker patterns as it observed the jungle. Its recent predatory behavior hadn't quite faded - those deep crimsons still flickered occasionally beneath its usual blues.

  "Interesting how such a facility operates without official notice," Seraphina commented, those sharp eyes missing nothing. "On a supposedly safe trading island."

  "Money talks," Thristle shrugged.

  The slime prodded Thristle's boot. There was something different about the gesture now. Less playful, more... possessive.

  "We need higher ground," Seraphina murmured, already moving toward a rocky outcrop. "Better view of the-" She stopped as voices carried across the morning air.

  Two figures stood arguing by a side entrance, their voices rising with obvious frustration. Steam vented from nearby pipes, adding its hiss to their debate.

  "Can't just leave!" The taller one gestured wildly at a stack of crates. "Do you know how much that equipment-"

  "Didn't sign up for those things." His companion's voice shook slightly. "Saw what happened to the party. All those legs and-"

  "Those were prototypes! The new batch is perfect-"

  A clicking sound echoed from the jungle behind them. Both men went very still. The clicking multiplied, moving through the underbrush with that horrible coordination they remembered too well.

  "Inside," the taller one decided, the previous argument forgotten. "Now."

  They vanished through the doorway, leaving the crates forgotten in their haste. The heavy door clanged shut behind them, its locking mechanism engaging with a series of metallic clicks.

  "Well," Thristle whispered, "that was helpful. Though I notice nobody's mentioned how we're getting through that very solid-looking door."

  Vesper's surface rippled with what might have been smugness. A tendril extended toward the door's locking mechanism.

  "No!" Thristle caught herself speaking too loudly and lowered her voice. "We need it to look undamaged. If they realize someone's inside..."

  "The ventilation system?" Seraphina asked quietly, studying the steam pipes running along the cliff. "There should be maintenance access."

  "Oh good," Thristle muttered, eyeing the narrow opening. "Crawling through tight spaces. My favorite." She caught Vesper starting to form another tendril. "And you - no dissolving anything unless I say so. We're being subtle."

  The slime's surface patterns suggested it found this requirement highly unreasonable, but it settled into a more contained mass.

  "Right then," Thristle checked her crossbow one more time, trying to ignore how her hands shook slightly. "Time to see what sort of horrible mistakes they're making in there."

  "Must you always joke about potential disaster?" Seraphina asked, though her lips twitched slightly.

  "Course I must. It's part of my charm." Thristle's grin turned sharp. "That, and I'm properly terrified. Humor helps."

  "Though we still need to figure out how to-" Thristle's words cut off as Vesper suddenly flowed to the building and up the wall like water defying gravity. The slime found a narrow window on the side wall, its mass compressing to seep through impossibly small gaps around the frame.

  The window had originally been a steam release valve housing. But someone had repurposed it, adding reinforced glass and a double-locking mechanism. They had counted on the sheer cliff face to discourage any attempted entry through such a dangerous access point. The metallic sheen around the frame suggested an additional security measure - but Vesper's casual contact accidentally dissolved whatever countermeasure had been installed.

  "Show off," Thristle muttered as they came closer, but then a familiar tendril snaked back through the opening. "Oh no. No, no, no-"

  The protest ended in a muffled yelp as Vesper's tendril wrapped around her waist with gentle but unyielding force. The ground disappeared beneath her feet as the slime lifted her with the kind of casual strength that always made her stomach flip.

  "I can find another way-" she started, but Vesper was already pulling her through the window. She pointed accusingly at Vesper as she tried to straighten her clothes. The slime's surface rippled with what was definitely amusement now, small iridescent patterns dancing across its mass.

  Seraphina's ascent was considerably more graceful, though Thristle noticed how the slime took extra care with her rifle. "Efficient," the maid commented, already scanning their surroundings. "If somewhat... unconventional."

  "That's one word for it," Thristle grumbled but fell silent as voices echoed from somewhere below. They found themselves in some kind of storage area, crates, and equipment casting strange shadows in the dim light filtering through dusty windows.

  "Take care of the window hatch," Seraphina murmured, her rifle already positioned as she moved like a shadow between the crates.

  Vesper's surface darkened slightly as it investigated a stack of brass-bound containers. Something about them made its patterns shift toward those deeper crimsons.

  "We should-" Thristle began, but Seraphina's raised hand stopped her. Footsteps approached from the corridor beyond, accompanied by the distinct hiss of steam pipes.

  Seraphina melted into the shadows behind a large crate, pulling Thristle with her. Vesper flowed up toward the ceiling, its mass spreading thin enough to disappear in the dim light nearly. The bear skull hung suspended like a particularly macabre chandelier. The footsteps drew closer, and two researchers appeared in the doorway, their white coats stained with substances Thristle didn't want to identify.

  "The latest batch is more stable," one researcher was saying, consulting a notebook. "Though control mechanisms still need-"

  "Improvements take time," his companion cut in. "The integration of organic and mechanical components-"

  Through gaps in the crates, Thristle caught glimpses of glass tubes pumping unknown fluids.

  "Breathe," Seraphina whispered, so close her lips nearly brushed Thristle's ear. The smaller woman hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until that moment.

  Above them, Vesper's surface churned with deeper colors. The slime had gone very, very still - the kind of stillness that usually preceded violence. A single tendril began to form, reaching toward the retreating figures.

  "Don't," Thristle breathed, though her own hands shook with the need to do something, anything. "Not yet. We need to know more first."

  The researchers' voices faded down the corridor, taking their creations with them. The clicking gradually disappeared into the depths of the facility, leaving behind only the omnipresent hiss of steam pipes and the pound of Thristle's heart in her ears. Vesper descended from the ceiling, its mass flowing around Thristle in what might have been meant as a comforting gesture. But there was something different about its movements now.

  ---

  The laboratory smelled of brass polish and something sharper - like lightning bottled in glass. Thristle moved between workbenches with uncharacteristic purpose, her hands dancing over equipment with practiced familiarity. Steam pipes thrummed against the laboratory walls, their rhythm mixing with the softer sounds of bubbling compounds and humming machinery. Brass pressure gauges lined the corridor like watchful eyes, their needles dancing as waves of hot vapor pulsed through the facility's arteries. The air carried a sharp chemical tang beneath the omnipresent mineral scent of the cliff face.

  "Just checking," she muttered, as a set of precisely labeled vials somehow found their way into her bag. "For evidence. Very important evidence."

  "Of course," Seraphina commented dryly, watching another notebook disappear into Thristle's seemingly bottomless pockets. "Though I notice you're being very... thorough with the alchemical supplies."

  "Well, we wouldn't want to miss anything important." A bunch of crystalline compounds joined the collection. Her grin faltered at Seraphina's knowing look. "What? These are very hard to get through normal channels- I mean, important evidence."

  Vesper watched this performance with what appeared to be growing amusement, its surface rippling with patterns that suggested it was trying very hard not to laugh. Then, while Seraphina was occupied checking the corridor, the slime began copying Thristle's movements. It focused particularly on the heavier equipment she couldn't manage - entire brass mechanisms and complicated glass apparatus disappeared into its mass.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "Don't," Thristle pointed accusingly at the slime. "And stop making that face. You don't even have a proper face to make faces with. You better take this instead of junk if you want help. Also, that's not how we- oh gods, is that an entire distillation setup?"

  The slime's patterns shifted to something that could only be described as smug satisfaction as it continued its careful collection, deliberately choosing the most dangerous-looking containers just to watch her squirm.

  "I've created a monster," Thristle muttered, then quickly amended as Vesper turned toward her, "A bigger monster. One that's obviously spending too much time learning my bad habits."

  A scratching sound from behind made them all freeze. Something large moved in the corridor - directly between them and their entrance point.

  "Did anyone," Seraphina asked with deadly calm, "secure that window as I told you to?"

  The clicking grew louder, accompanied by the distinctive hiss of steam vents. A shadow fell across the doorway - much larger than it should have been, with far too many legs.

  "In my defense," Thristle whispered, carefully setting down a very unstable-looking compound, "I was rather distracted by being carried like a sack of potatoes."

  Vesper's surface darkened as it moved between them and the door, but Thristle caught a glimpse of what looked like a thick metal plate that would fit that one peculiar window… The first pressure gauge suddenly dropped. Then another. The steam's rhythm faltered, replaced by the distinct sound of something large moving through the facility's infrastructure.

  "Right then," she muttered, reaching for her crossbow. "Time to be significantly less subtle."

  ---

  "Your responsibility to check lower containment-" A researcher's voice carried from the main laboratory ahead.

  "After your team left specimen storage unlocked-"

  The argument cut off as metal screamed. The largest centipede emerged, its segments oriented itself using the pipes above. It moved like a hunter, each segment coordinating in a way that spoke of predatory intelligence.

  Two more moved inside - and where the first moved with calculating grace, the second was pure chaos. It crashed through a rack of experimental compounds, its bulk sending glass containers flying in all directions. The mixing chemicals immediately began to react, eating through metal with a sound like angry bees while releasing clouds of oddly-colored smoke.

  "Keep away from the blue vapor," Thristle called out, already backing toward their secondary exit. "The green's probably fine... actually, let's just avoid all of them."

  Steam erupted from a damaged pipe, adding its scalding threat to the spreading chemical chaos.

  Through the thickening haze, Thristle caught movement in the observation room above. Hawthorne stood at a bank of brass monitors, his perfect composure finally cracking as he grabbed specific papers from the instruments. Their eyes met through the reinforced glass. For just a moment, his hands tightened. Then the berserker centipede crashed into a support column, and his perfect smile shattered completely.

  "Left!" Seraphina's warning cut through the chaos as the hunter dropped from the pipes above. Her rifle cracked, the sound nearly lost in the hiss of steam and sizzle of corroding metal. The bullet sparked off chitin, but it made the creature pause just long enough for them to dodge.

  Vesper flowed between them and the threat, but something was off about its movements. The slime seemed more focused on carefully preserving the laboratory equipment it had been collecting than immediate violence. Its surface churned with familiar protective patterns while meticulously absorbing another brass mechanism that had caught its interest.

  "Are you... you're actually being careful with that stuff?" Thristle's voice cracked with disbelief. "Now? Really?"

  The berserker centipede's charge answered her question, sending another shelf of chemicals flying. This mixture hit the floor with a sound like shattering bells, immediately regretted it as it started crystallizing everything it touched.

  "I believe," Seraphina commented with deadly precision while reloading her rifle, "this would be an excellent time to demonstrate your alchemical expertise."

  "Right! Yes! Definitely!" Thristle fumbled with her crossbow, trying to ignore how the crystalline growth was creeping toward their position. "Though I notice nobody's commenting on how some of us are still shopping during a crisis."

  Vesper's surface rippled with what might have been an embarrassment, but it didn't stop its careful acquisition of technically interesting items. If anything, the chaos seemed to make it more determined to preserve particularly valuable pieces.

  "Less commentary," Seraphina suggested as the nearest centipede reared up, its segments casting strange shadows in the laboratory lights. "More running." They backed toward the secondary exit, Vesper flowing beside them.

  "Secondary exit's blocked," Thristle reported, watching the third centipede methodically cut off their planned escape route. She caught a glimpse of what looked like more research notes scattered near a fallen desk. "Wait, those diagrams-"

  "Not now," Seraphina commanded her maid's precision carrying an edge of steel. Through the chaos above, they could hear Hawthorne shouting orders, his voice finally losing its perfect modulation.

  "Secure the primary specimens! We can't lose-" His words cut off as the berserker crashed through another support column. Something structural groaned ominously.

  Vesper's surface suddenly churned with deeper colors. The slime had noticed something in the spreading chaos - a cabinet marked with familiar warning symbols. Before Thristle could process what was happening, Vesper surged forward and rammed the cabinet with shocking force, sending it spinning toward the nearest centipede.

  "Oh no," Thristle breathed, recognizing the cabinet's markings. "Everyone down!"

  The resulting explosion when volatile compounds met the spreading chemical fire was... enthusiastic. Colored flames blossomed across the ceiling, immediately followed by the screech of overstressed metal. Steam pipes burst in a chain reaction, filling the laboratory with scalding vapor.

  "I don't suppose," Seraphina asked with deadly calm as they scrambled behind an overturned workbench, "that was part of some brilliant plan?"

  The explosion had at least solved their berserker problem. The centipede lay twitching beneath fallen debris, its segments charred where the chemical fire had caught. But the hunter above was already adapting, using the new steam vents for cover as it maneuvered through the damaged infrastructure.

  Through gaps in the steam, they caught another glimpse of Hawthorne. He'd abandoned his attempt to salvage research, survival finally outweighing scientific ambition. Two guards in reinforced uniforms flanked him, their rifles raised with professional readiness as they escorted him toward a secure exit. More armed figures moved through the chaos with practiced efficiency, securing specific cabinets and containers while ignoring the general destruction.

  "They're not panicking," Seraphina noted, her voice carrying that dangerous edge. "They have protocols for this."

  The hunter chose that moment to strike, dropping from above. The first volley caught the creature mid-strike, forcing it to retreat into the steam. More guards emerged through side doors, their coordinated fire keeping the hunter pinned while Hawthorne escaped.

  The hunter-centipede chose that moment to crash through the observation window, sending guards diving for cover as glass and chitin rained down.

  Thristle, Vesper and Seraphina slipped through the unguarded doorway into a service corridor, leaving behind the sound of gunfire and clicking mandibles. The passage felt narrow after the laboratory's chaos - just maintenance access with pipes running along both walls. Steam leaked from damaged sections, making the metal treacherously wet.

  "This is definitely not up to safety codes," Thristle panted as they ran, her feet sliding on the slick floor. "Though I suppose that's not our biggest problem right now."

  Behind them, something large impacted the laboratory wall hard enough to make the pipes rattle. The sound of gunfire intensified, then cut off abruptly. The maintenance corridor twisted deeper into the facility's infrastructure, each turn bringing them closer to the cliff face. Vesper's faint glow provided the only reliable light as they moved further from the main sections, casting strange shadows through the escaping steam. A distant explosion shook loose rust from the pipes above. The facility's power seemed to be failing in sections - pressure gauges they passed showed wildly fluctuating readings. Somewhere far behind, metal screamed as something large forced its way through spaces never meant to accommodate its size.

  The corridor twisted sharply, leading them into a maintenance junction where pipes of varying sizes converged in a web of brass and iron. Dim emergency lights flickered, casting shadows through the curling steam. "The right path should take us toward the exterior wall. But we need to move quickly." Seraphina said, scanning the paths ahead. Her rifle remained steady in her hands, her composure unshaken. Vesper shifted beside them, its form momentarily stabilizing into a more humanoid shape before rippling again, its hues oscillating between deep blues and flickering crimsons. It was agitated—its usual playful movements were replaced by something more focused.

  "I don't like that color shift," Thristle muttered, glancing at the slime. "What do you see?"

  Vesper extended a tendril toward the right passage, its surface darkening in warning. A deep metallic groan echoed from the depths, followed by the unmistakable sound of something vast scraping against metal. Then came the clicks—dozens of them—growing louder by the second.

  "Not right then," Thristle said quickly, tugging Seraphina toward the left passage. "Absolutely not right. Let's go."

  They dashed forward, boots splashing through puddles of condensed steam. The air grew warmer as they neared a service hatch, its iron frame embedded into the rock itself. Thristle skidded to a halt and yanked on the latch. "Locked. Of course it is."

  Seraphina was already scanning the panel beside it. Behind them, the clicking intensified. Thristle could swear she heard the rustle of segmented bodies shifting through the pipes, drawing closer. "No time for diagnostics. Vesper? A little help?"

  The slime pulsed, then pressed against the locking mechanism. The hatch gave a reluctant hiss, metal bolts retracting as the door slid open. Cool air rushed in, carrying the salt tang of the ocean beyond.

  "Nice work, buddy," Thristle breathed. She stepped forward, but Seraphina's hand on her arm stopped her.

  A sudden shriek of tearing metal behind them silenced further complaints. The passage they'd come from trembled, then buckled as something massive forced its way through. A multi-segmented form emerged from the steam, its glistening exoskeleton reflecting emergency lights in distorted patterns.

  The hunter had found them.

  "Go!" Seraphina snapped, raising her rifle. The crack of gunfire echoed through the passage as she fired at the creature's sensitive eye, forcing it to hesitate.

  Vesper reacted first, pulling Seraphina outside. It wrapped itself around the nearest mechanism, closing the door behind them. "Go, go, go!" Thristle urged, stepping carefully across the compromised section while Seraphina covered their retreat. The hatch opened into a sheer rock ledge overlooking the sea, mist curling around jagged cliffs. Below, waves crashed against the stone, the wind whipping their clothes. A narrow path led downward toward an outcropping where a rusted maintenance boat was moored.

  "That thing better float," Thristle muttered, already moving toward the ladder. Behind them, the hunter centipede let out a piercing screech, Vesper, quivered before suddenly withdrawing, sealing the hatch with a thick layer of itself.

  Seraphina didn't hesitate. "No time. Move!"

  Thristle followed, gripping the damp banister as they descended toward their escape. Vesper slithered downward in its own way, adhering to the rock like liquid. The wind howled as they reached the outcropping, where the maintenance skiff bobbed uneasily.

  "I'll take barely seaworthy over death by murder-insect," Thristle said, untying the mooring lines.

  Above them, the hatch buckled as the centipede slammed against it again and again. The rock itself groaned under the force. Then, as they scrambled inside, something gave way. A horrendous crash split the air as the facility's infrastructure exploded. A deafening roar of steam echoed across the water, drowning out all other sounds.

  The skiff lurched forward, salt spray hitting their faces as Seraphina navigated away from the structure. Thristle stared back at the cliffs, the research facility vanishing behind an avalanche of rock and steam.

  "Well," she managed, breathless. "That could have gone worse."

  Seraphina arched a brow. "That is your standard for 'acceptable outcomes'?"

  "Look, nobody’s dead, Vesper didn't dissolve anything too important, and we made it out with some very valuable evidence." Thristle patted her satchel, grinning. "I'm calling that a win."

  Vesper made a rippling noise that somehow sounded like laughter, its surface pulsing with satisfaction as it propelled their boat from beneath. Seraphina sighed, shaking her head as she turned the skiff toward open waters. "I suspect we haven’t seen the last of Hawthorne."

  Thristle exhaled, watching as the ruined facility smoldered behind them. "No," she admitted. "I don't think we have."

  ---