Theo closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on Dog’s Nose. He dialled in on the toxin, tuning out everything else. As he swivelled his head, Theo mused that it definitely appeared like he had a dog’s nose.

He quickly got rid of that thought, feeling a little guilty for joking around when there was a serious matter at hand.

He followed the scent as it led them past empty guard post after empty guard post, everyone on alert just in case whoever had paralysed them was still around.

The smell ended at a needle-like device in a stone corridor empty of anything of interest or decoration, tight enough that their square formation barely fit. It was a short rod that ended at a sharp point, from which a drop of liquid ballooned out, surface tension stopping it from reaching the ground. Theo presumed it was the toxin, a bulbous speck of green.

“Careful, that’s it.” He reached a hand out, stopping Jenny from walking near it. With a whistle, he encased it in the stone floor, now unable to inject its paralytic into anyone without a chisel. He approached it alone, observing it as he tentatively drew closer, but still keeping some distance just in case.

Theo paused.

Wait.

Why would this be on the floor by itself? If Felix saw it he would have taken it, and so would everyone else. It was a rather suspicious item to be lying out in the open, exposed. Almost as if it was –

Theo whirled around, scanning the barren corridor for any movement. He used Bat’s Ears, straining to hear any breathing, and only heard his own and that of his squad. He cursed the way his own lungs betrayed him, as he held his breath for a moment. He brought a finger to his lips as he looked at Jenny, Bruce, and Drew.

They needed no further explanation, growing as still and as silent as they could.

After a terse minute where everyone’s eyes were wandering vagabonds clinging to anything vaguely interesting, they ran out of things to ogle and silences to hear. It was, after all, an empty stone corridor with very little decoration. There was almost nowhere to hide.

Almost.

Just as they began to relax and lower their guard, a black blur dropped from the shadows in the ceiling, landing almost on Jenny.

Before anyone could react, the shadow sprayed something in Jenny’s face.

She went rigid.

They hid behind her body, using it as a shield. Bruce and Drew struggled to bring their weapons to bear in such a cramped space, as they kicked her body at them.

Theo saw red, charging straight at the spy (because that was clearly who they were), thankful that he had enough distance to gain some momentum with which to splatter them into paste.

Moments later, as Theo found himself somehow flying through the air on his way to slam head-first into stone, he reconsidered the usefulness of that momentum.

They had crouched, and instead of being an immovable wall contending against an unstoppable force, they merely tripped and nudged the unstoppable force to fight another wall instead.

Theo felt his nose break.

The world went dark and burst into flame at the same time, pulsing lightning through his face.

The only time he’d felt his much pain before was when Esther was “teaching” him Rest.

As Theo saw black and briefly flirted with unconsciousness, the spy continued their motion, rising from their crouched position as they raked a knife over the backs of Bruce and Drew’s legs.

Bruce screamed as he fell, hamstrings cut. It was a choked sound, like someone falling off a cliff before the impact knocks the wind out of their lungs.

The knife almost bounced off of Drew, like a rusted axe off a particularly sturdy hardwood tree.

Even so, they did not discard the knife, instead choosing to use its point to dig into Drew’s vitals, winding him as it punched his solar plexus and joints. With their other hand, the spy leveraged their fist into his wrist, keeping him from being able to use his mace at all, occasionally throwing an actual punch as well.

Drew wheezed, as he tried to protect his face as much as possible. The mace had become little more than a very ineffective shield, as he tried (and failed) to fend off the spy’s assault.

He was clearly flagging, chest heaving like a sail flapping in a storm.

Drew’s motions grew slower and sloppier, arms laden with lead as the spy kept up their relentless pace.

He couldn’t keep up.

The dagger punched into his chest with enough force to make him crumple forward, right into the path of a fist aiming for his throat.

The punch missed.

Not through mercy or luck, but because something had pushed their arm out of the way.

A quarterstaff, wielded by Bruce prone on the ground. It redirected the punch into the wall, the same way they had redirected Theo into the one opposite.

There was enough force in the punch to shatter and flake the brick, spider web cracks echoing from the impact as their fist was almost stuck in the stone.

As they tried to pull it out with increasing force and frustration, the wall rippled and seemed to claim the hand, sinking like quicksand.

The stone reformed around it, the same way it had around the paralytic needle.

Theo staggered up, nose bleeding. He breathed heavily, panting out a rhythm and mustering what focus he could to cut through the haze of pain to trap this spy here. To his immense satisfaction, the stone swallowed the arm up to the wrist, and no amount of desperate tugging could get it out.

The spy looked at Theo rising, at Bruce pulling himself up using his quarterstaff as a crutch, and at Drew who was uncurling his hunched-over form, and made a decision. Even with all four enemies injured or incapacitated, while they were trapped and without the element of surprise their chance of survival was growing lower by the second.

With a cruel swing, they cut off their own hand, leaving it behind as they turned and ran away.

Theo made to chase before stumbling over his own feel, disoriented. It was a miracle he could trap the hand in the first place.

He lay down on the cold stone floor, waiting for the world to stop spinning.

He heard an impact, as Drew punched the wall. “Fuck!”

Theo ignored the wheezing cry, instead looking over at Bruce’s hunched-over form.

“Need some healing?” At Bruce’s gentle nod, both he and Drew slowly made their way over, preparing to see just how well they knew Hymn of Healing.

---

After Bruce was recovered enough to move, and they were in a good enough condition to drag Jenny’s rigid body, they started going back the way they came, praying to every God that no more spies were in their way. Sparks of mana floated up, slight consolation that they were being heard at least.

“You’re going to be safe, I swear.” Theo stared at Jenny’s slowly blinking eyelids, her shallow but still-moving chest, desperately looking for every reassurance that she was going to be okay. “I’m sorry, I fucked up, I made the calls, I-“

“Hey, at least we’re still alive.” Drew cut in. “You did what you could.”

Theo nodded, taking a moment to compose himself. A shaky breath rattled through his body.

He sneezed and flinched, as Rest set his nose and restored it. He laughed, partially from the absurdity of something so ordinary happening after something so serious, partially because he needed to get over said serious thing. “Apparently Iron Bones doesn’t apply to noses.”

He sneezed again, jumping a bit from the force, as his world shook.

And then the world shook again, without him sneezing.

And then it shook again, and again.

As the rumbling continued, Theo had a sinking feeling that something very bad just happened.