Featuring OppizPhoenix, MossySnake, Synthocado, and BlackstarBatty

---

The Road To Merseychester:

Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3ny2R8D6gs "Ruined Landscape" - Giorgio Moroder

Luckily the team had booked the hotel suite ahead of time so they weren't sharing it with refugees. Not that five people crammed into a small suite was a good idea. A smilodon, a phoenix, a bat, a protogen, and a synth made for some pretty close company. This would have been fine for the week required for their last mission, but it had turned into a nearly two-month ordeal. Emil, thankfully, could get out and about due to having a medical appointment at the Merseychester County National Health Trust Research Hospital. So the sabertooth pulled on some pants and his own lined coat. "See ya! Should be back soon, it just looks like a minor once-over and maybe some answers to what that dust clogging our respirators and my filter is."

"Good, the stuff's playing hell with my cyberdeck," griped Avocado the protogen. "It's impossible to clean."

"It can't be good for our lungs," said the phoenix, Oppiz as they covered a cough. "I'm glad we didn't get the worst of it. Whatever it is, it's screwing up my magic something fierce."

"This dust chews up the bearings on my rotodrones no matter what I lube them with" fumed Cable the synth. "Best parts I could get, and half of them are scrap now."

"It just gets everywhere." grumbled Blackstar the bat. "Turns my fur into a powderpuff and makes everything itch."

"Well, at least we don't have the trid mage and physad along with us," said Emil "they're probably sitting pretty in Empire State. Okay, have to go now."

Merseychester was a ruin and there were still obvious signs that a multi-megaton surface burst had hit the central business district and harbor, even after a few months had passed. What buildings still stood were blackened husks. Craters from stay shells and bombs, shrapnel, unidentifiable chinks of debris, and weapons fire decorated the landscape. The half-functional GridGuide system routed Emil's rented Pessima hatchback around the desolation of the exclusion zone and countless roadblocks staffed by gas-masked Mercian Army soldiers. There were tank parks of grimy hardware, artillery fire bases tucked behind hills, and the airport was full of parked strike aircraft and bombers instead of jetliners. Old Bloodhound anti-ballistic missile bases that had been abandoned for years hummed with activity. A battlegroup of Allied Nations ships bobbed at anchor in the crater lake that used to be the port of Merseychester, up to and including a thorughly out-of-place Shinano Republic Navy Yamato-class fast battleship that showed clear signs of charring and superstructure damage.

Some rebuilding had started on the outskirts and shantytowns dotted the areas that had been cleared, but it was a truly staggering task to restore the city of Merseychester to its past glory...if one could call a bland, podunk city like this one something glorious. "It just doesn't get any better, does it" mused the smilodon uplift as he drove the car, the Mercian Broadcast Corporation's world report playing in the background, including yet another update on the aftermath of the Merseychester explosion. "Just when we think we're entering decades of peace, war comes home to us all. And it's us civilians that always get left holding the bag, kept in the dark by a government that only cares about winning the next election." The Pessima's windshield wipers struggled to remove the strange black rain from the windshield as he turned off at the next motorway exit and continued along the surface roads to the hospital.

Emil's visit to the Research Hospital to see a cyberdoc was a strange one. Normally he'd just go to his usual doc in at University Hospitals in Anacostia or a DocWagon clinic, but the research hospital was the closest site with suitable expertise that could handle his cyberware. It was just far enough way from the explosion for it and the surrounding neighborhood to have only sustained minor damage. Some of the windows on the outside of the research hospital complex that faced what used to be the city of Merseychester were still boarded up even over two months after the blast. The car park was full of an assortment of vehicles in various conditions, including quite a few barely roadworthy cars with plastic sheet over the windows, worn tires, and bodywork held together with duct tape. Motor vehicle inspections were not really a matter of importance these days much like a lot of other normal things.

---

Hospital Lobby:

Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ve0pE4xpZV4 "Waiting Room" - Ben Businovski

Emil hit the stop button on the car, the electric drive cut out with a muffled feep and the click of a relay and he heaved his bulky greatcat frame free of the little aluminum and composite conveyance. "What I'd give for my old Spirit. For a small car, at least the interior was better laid out. At least it's safe in my garage in Anacostia, at least for now. Unless the monsters turn up there too." There was a queue stretching out the door, full of people with minor injuries and a rather distinctive hacking cough. A bit of the black rain fell on the crowd, saints and sinners alike.

The queue eventually to check in at the front desk, in a spacious atrium. It would be airy if the skylight wasn't blackened by the past few months of grime. "I'm here for my cyberware appointment with Dr. Howard at 0930."

"Can I see your ID, passport, and insurance card?" asked the tired-looking rhino receptionist.
The sabertooth dug out the cards and passport to show the lady behind the desk. "How about these?"

"These look fine. A Bennie from Anacostia, huh? You really have a crazy system over there. All private. At least, we take your DocWagon coverage, which is good for you. Platinium too, so you shouldn't have to worry about anything at all. Okay, so about half an hour and Dr. Howard should be able to see you. She's specialized in more exotic cyberware."

The big sabertooth went to the lobby and sat down on a free space on a tired couch that creaked under his weight, pulled out his handbrain and began to go through the latest headlines. The war-weary hospital lobby was still full of more ambulatory casualties in various states, ranging from the apparently healthy but hollow-eyed PTSD cases to people in casts or carrying oxygen concentrators and coughing up more black drek. He sipped away at a cup of cheap soykaf from the vending machine, grimacing a bit at the burnt taste but the caffeine gradually kicked in, brightening his vision. The articles scrolling across the handbrain's screen more reporting of the explosion of hallucinogenic gases in Merseychester and other locations, survivor testimonies about seeing giant monsters, various rumors about the event, the new politicians who had been swept into parliment by the crisis, a political scuffle in Shinano, deepening political instability in the Federated States of Anacostia, the increasingly pressing resource shortages, and a puff piece on some tech wunderkind. "Ugh, I hate her. Just another sociopathic slitch trying to grift even more money out of our dying world. Would be better if she got geeked, with her damn rhetoric about population control. Ugh. And it's strange too, usually it's a male techbro sprouting this sort of drek."

"Don't think out loud, cat." chimed in a tyrannosaur, "I think she's wonderful, we have so much biotech to thank her for, and she was the first one to commercialize rapid microassembly techniques. Without her, you wouldn't have those eyes and implants."

"These predate her "advancements," they're from Dodd Biooptronics whom she bought out with creative acounting. The quality of the current ones leaves something to be desired. My bones were reinforced with the best titanium from Takeda" Emil extended the claws on his right hand, titanium alloy gleaming dully.

"Whoa, who, sorry. No need to go wolver on me. My mistake."

"Thank you, and stay out of my business. You're lucky that I don't like getting these dirty." The saber sighed. "The megarich just rub me the wrong way."

"Cyberpsycho," mumbled the rex.

"Thank you."

---

Encountering Elliot:

Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mICvYHdf8Ng - "Light Through the Leaves of Love" - Dragon Quest XI - Koichi Sugiyama

Among the inhabitants of the lobby was an emaciated, strangely uninjuried, and rather depressed drake wearing a hospital gown and holding a dataslate with a news stream on it and crying. They briefly looked up at Emil with before going back to their screen. "What's with you?" asked the big smilodon "Why are you so miserable? Did you lose anyone important?"

"Y-yeah. I l-lost everyone. I b-blew up into a a murder mountain. My b-b-boyfriend, my neighborhood, my job, all of my records, the city, my life. It was like a n-nightmare, but it was true. It was just supposed to be a night where me and my boyfriend got together to Netpix and chill and then it...w-went to pieces." The drake begain to cry.

"Look at me. What's your name?"

"E-E-Elliot. Although the staff here all call me "Lucky," since I was the closest person to the blast to survive and had no identification. I-I was in the ICU on a ventilator for weeks, and dialysis. I was in a coma too. They took tons of blood out of me. And talked about me like I was some sort of lab animal. I used to be big and muscular like you, but it's all wasted away now. Maybe a few pounds too heavy, but that's normal for some drakes when they grow up."

"Elliot," sighed Emil, "I've been in intensive care for cybersurgery, I have an idea of how awful that can be. I had titatium grafted to my skeleton and bonded to my teeth, new muscles grown, artificial eyes, brain implants to help me sleep, top of the line lungs and heart, and wires threaded through my nervous system to allow me to move at the speed of thought. And I gained weight because of my lousy diet" Emil extened a gleaming titanium claw to show Elliot. "I'm more machine than cat. Like an Eliminator, or Robopolice Type-0."

"But you wanted that to be done...and what's your name, cat?"

"I'm Emil. Emil Leidy. And yes, it was voluntary. I wanted to give up my old life and become more than human."

"Unlike you," grumbled Elliot, "Emil, I didn't ask for this. And I feel so guility, as if I killed all these people and destroyed Merseychester and that people keep denying it and saying it was fake. I was like some monster out of a tridfilm."

"That's drek and you know it. Plus that trid is a piece of fanservicey schlock. It's impossible that could you have turned into a monster, killed so many people, and done so much damage. It's some beast out of the depths of the sea or from outer space. I'm not going to deny its existence. And they killed it with some sort of exotic bomb."

"I know. But I still want to throw myself off of the roof and end it all so I don't have to live with the guilt of destroying everything. You don't understand, I could see it all though my own eyes."

"It's not worth it to throw your life away over a nightmare or delusion. Just stuffit."

"You keep telling me that. Everyone says that to me."

"Because you're acting whacked, chummer. Do you want a hug? I don't normally do this, but you look like you need it."

"Y-yes. It'll help the pain go away for a little while." Emil opened his arms, and the scrawny drake hugged into the saber's soft fur and belly and started to cry. The saber tightly hugged the poor drake and sighed, purring softly as he rubbed the smaller creature's back. "Just enjoy the soft kitty for a little while and let the tension leave your system."

"T-thanks, Emil. I'll be meeting with my parents later, they were worried that I wad dead."

"Give them a hug. They need it, they've been through a lot."

"G-goodbye then, Emil." Elliot sniffled. "You're going to the cyberdoc, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah. Have to keep the chrome shiny."

"I hope it goes well for you. I'm looking forward to going home. Maybe you'll see me again...I wouldn't mind the chance to hug you again, you're so warm and soft and being around you makes me feel okay." Elliot kissed the saber before he pulled away.

Emil blushed. "That's a little much, but Thanks, Elliot. See you around. I want this to get better. I believe in you."

"Goodbye Emil. I need to get back to my room now...my parents said they were coming, I haven't seen them in ages. I feel a bit uneasy though..." The drake wandered off to the elevator, pressed the button, and was whisked away to a higher floor.

There was a ping from one of the saber's implants. Emil's image recognition software package had picked up a correlation between an older couple of drakes he saw in the car park, the depressed scrawy drake in the lobby, and the monster beast that had torn through Merseychester during his last mission over a month ago. Lots of drakes have that skin coloration, facial shape, and pattern of horns. It was only an 75% match, anyway. No matter, even with the circumstantial evidence. Elliot could just be having nightmares or severe PTSD. Just another poor twitch, probably some vidiot to boot.

The tannoy chimed: "Mr. Leidy, Dr. Howard is ready to see you." Emil was finally admitted to the cybermedicine offices. His nose was assaulted with the smell of circuitry, antiseptics, and a faint smell of death, making the sabertooth's whiskers twitch. The corridors seemed a bit grungier than they should be and a light fixture was dead here and there. "Guess there's not enough of a maintenance budget, or they just can't get new light panels...or the electricity is still rationed. A bunch of power plants must have got wiped out by the tsunami that surface burst kicked up, plus the transmission grid is probably in ruins. Even with all of that load gone with the city no longer there..."

---

Doctor's Office:
Bouganvillea Maintheme - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVBEZaz1n3U - Bouganvillea Main Theme - Le Chet Noir

Emil entered the exam room and stretched, bumping his hands on the dropped ceiling of the exam room. He looked around at the typical space, with bed, chairs, supply cabinet, sink, sharps container, and carts of diagnostic equipment.

"Good day, Mr. Leidy. Are you doing okay? Is the chrome holding up just fine?" said the one-tusked sow. She had dark circles under her eyes, and was sipping from a cup of soykaf. Judging by the empties in the wastebasket, her shifts had bled together for a while.

"Hoi hoi, Dr. Howard."

"Just call me Carol."

"Okay, that's a little too casual for our first meeting, but I grok. Could be better. Lots of stress, the feeling that drek has gone wrong, and my tracheal filter was full of crud. Everything else is doing its job, although one of my eyes isn't flipping between modes the way it should. How about you?"

"It never ends. So many injuries, so many damaged lungs, and a new government liason who gets in the way of everything we try to report and sends goons out after people who speak out. Heck, my friend Scott got terminated for bringing up his theories in front of the wrong people."

"Gods, whatever's going on must be nuts."

"I'm just going to put my head down and do what I can, I'm no use to anyone if I can't continue helping the sick." They turned to consult their dataslate. "Just give me a second to get your records up and start analysis on the filter from your lungs. I'm curious, what's someone from the Federated States of Anacostia doing out here in the Mercian Empire, especially in the wake of a catastrophe like what happened in Merseychester?"

"Just a business trip. We got stuck here due to the air traffic shutdown, apparently I'm not important enough to get a flight back out. Same for my friends, the bird, bat, protogen and synth are marooned too."

"So there was a big gas explosion downtown a month back. I lost my younger brother, apparently either got vaporized or crushed in one of the underground shelters.

"Was downwind of what they're calling an 'explosion of hallucinogenic gas'." grumbled Emil, "and got to enjoy both the dust cloud and black rain. I know what a gas plant explosion looks like, one happened in 1944 when my great-great grandfather was a kid, it was a couple kilotons and blew up the suburb. This one was megatons."

"I still can't get replacement windows after the blast. There's a six-month lead time The official explanation with the doesn't make much sense to me. I was woken up by jet fighters tearing over head and ran to the nearest hill to get a good look at what was going on, it was like something out of an schlocky old flatvid once I was able to get a telescope. Oh, where was I, I need to do your physical."

The smilodon was changed into a hospital gown, was unceremoniously weighed had his height measured, a blood draw taken, his pulse and blood pressure analyzes, followed by some basic diagnostics and a quick rather personal exam. "Cold hands! Cold hands!"

"C'mon, don't flinch. I'm surprised you haven't had much luck with the men or ladies, most would throw themseleves at you to experience that kind of hardware. And that's natural too, I see why you wouldn't mess with perfection."

"Ugh, can you not feel me up? I wish I didn't have it at all, but I want to settle down and have kids someday."

"Ah, my apologies. And don't worry about your weight too much, a lot of that's muscle, your bone lacing. and other ware. Wouldn't hurt if you tried chunking a bit less and maybe get a cookbook. I'll get the diagnotics booted up."

"I'll try." Emil drummed his fingers on the table. "I met this sad-looking drake when I was out waiting in the lobby-"

"Don't tell me, it's Lucky."

"His real name is Elliot," corrected Emil. "A real PTSD case. I'm surprised he isn't being treated."

"That's up to him, unforutnately. My expertise is cyberware and bioware, not psychology. Maybe he's been hitting the BTLs too hard and got reality impaired, then just happened to be in a spot where he survived unscathed."

"Maybe. I've had these weird depressive cycles after trying dreamchips, so I guess a heavier user could have that problem"

"Understandable, you're not the only one. Neurochemical imbalance, your body goes from being completely ramped up on dopamine to beige normality and can't figure out how to cope. Who hasn't given into the temptation at least once?"

"If you want a case study, I have. Just last week"

"Given the world we're in, it's not surprising that even you'd slot a beetle once in a while." mused Carol, starting up the diagnostic set and attaching sensors to Emil. "Okay, looks like we were able to pull some of the stuff out of the filter matrices when we replaced your old set, it's...interesting." The sow perked an eyebrow. "Whatever it was, we got hit by a cyberattack around the time I got the results back from the lab. Luckily it was a little too late to trash my copies." She thumbed through pages on the dataslate. "Here we go though. Fullerenes, rare earths, exotic compounts, some stuff the system couldn't identify, and even a few neutron-activated metals. Certainly would explain all of the respiratory ailments people are having, the stuff might as well be super asbestos in addition to toxic. What the heck were you around anyway?"

"Would you believe me if it was a giant monster? No, seriously, like something out of an old B-Trid creature feature from Shinano. Indigo-blue plating, glowing yellow eyes, muscles out to here, dorsal plates glowing a Cherenkov blue. Thick hide capable of shrugging off armor-piercing naval artillery and bunker-busters? Fired on everything in sight with particle beams. And it kept growing bigger and more powerful the longer things went on."

"Given all of the contrary information, I'd be tempted say that the hallucinatory gas statement was valid, but cybereyes don't hallucinate. Nor did the camera in my telescope." The sow sighed. "What the heck is going on. I got investigated by the police and had my recording equipment and storage media confiscated. Now what's weird about Lucky is that his lungs are intact. Given where he was, they should look like a coal mi-" There was a sudden rumble, the lights flickered and a few loose items fell off the shelves and shattered. "Whoa! Get under a table or brace yourself." Emil dove under the table while Carol braced herself in the doorframe. The building rumbled some more the overhead lights cut out, and the emergency lights weakly came to life, casting a cold blue glow over the scene.

"You okay?"

"All shook up. Wait, it's still going!" The building shook again, far more powerfully, and began to go to pieces, floor splitting and the ceiling bowing, light fixtures popping free.

"We're not supposed to be in an earthquake zone, what the hel-"

With a rending crunch and shrieking of torn metal, the ceiling fell in. Debris struck Emil, knocking him down and wounding him. Mostly superficial according to his biomonitor, but painful nonetheless. A beam speared Dr. Howard through the chest, her body twitching like a frog on a spear, a red stain spreading across her white lab coat. "Get...away, Emil...you can't...triage...me now"

Emil pushed his navigate the wreckage. "Carol? Carol?! Stay with me. I'll get help."
The sow managed a pained smile and coughed up blood. "Remember...the monsters are" she choked before giving a death rattle and slumping on the beam skewering her.

Emil paused briefly, then closed her eyes and did the sign of the cross, hazily remembered from a trip to church with a childhood friend. "For the Father, the son, and the holy ghost. Amen."

"No...no...she's dust...Frag it, all I can do is try and jam before I get geeked." The smilodon tore off his hospital gown, grabbed the thumbdrive and his handbrain, and began trying to figure a way of getting out of the rubble pile without bringing the roof down on himself. "Maybe some info bro will pay for what's on this chip." Emil's pants were left behind in the mad scramble as he started to scrabble away at crumbly acoustic tiles, tearing his way through sheet metal, floor decking, and drywall with his titanium-alloy claws

---

Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mICvYHdf8Ng - "Martial Ecologist" - Front Mission - Yoko Shimomura

Emil struggled to clear the rubble, powerful arms making short work of the debris and beams. Squeezing through the crevice, he wished he had been just that bit more careful about all those midnight meals from Six-Twelve. But he was free. Free of the structure, unfortunately free of pants, and free to the sky. The saber turned around and looked up--only to see the towering monster out of his nightmares, the one that had appeared during his last mission. They decided that the best option, after getting a good look with his cybereyes, was to take partial cover behind some rubble.

The monster loomed over the landscape, indigo scaled hide dull, massive tail dragging through the ruins. They did bear at least a passing resemblance to Elliot...same horns, same plating, same general color...just a mountain of muscle with tall dorsal fins. The beast's eyes gleamed, thankfully not fixed on Emil, and it unleashed an artillery-scale particle beam in the direction of the hospital's central energy plant. Not only did the plant explode, but the backscatter radiation set off the alarm on Emil's handbrain.

"Yes! Hello!" screamed Emil. "I've got a big problem here! Monster! Just like the one we saw during the first mission. Uploading now!"

"We know!" said Blackstar, voice tinny over the compressed link. Give us a few seconds...frag, it's happening again?"

"Why are they always so thicc?" inquired Cable.

"Structural reasons." stated Avocado, "but that's beyond the point, we need to get Emil out of there before the artillery shells start falling or the monster starts stomping in his direction."

"We'll get you out of there." commanded Blackstar, "Start running. Away from that thing. And put as much cover between it and you as possible."

"Roger." Emil triggered his wired reflexes and adrenaline autoinjector and the world seemed to slow down around him as he began to move at the speed of thought. This was not without risk of injury, but some torn ligaments, injured joints, and strained muscles were the least of his worries. He sprinted, dodging chunks of rubble and tucking himself behind a Royal Mail truck to catch a quick breather before resuming his mad sprint. "Do...you have a car for me yet."

"Just about, ah, okay, got one." said Cable. "It's a Fyrd Anacosticar. Space Pimp Purple. Looks intact. I'll highlight it in your vision while I get it started. Avocado, you handle routing, he needs to get out of dodge and hopefully catch up with us." A dot resolved itself in Emil's vision, along with a range countdown. The saber's heart throbbed--he wasn't a distance runner and this was pushing far beyond his limits. With the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through his system, it no longer mattered, and those expensive cultured muscles were going to to do their thing. His feet were torn up from sharp debris and leaving bloody footprints, fur soaked with sweat, his brain felt like it was going to cook--but just a few hundred more meters that dwindled faster and faster as he pounded towards salvation. The distant crump of artillery battery fire begain, and the flash of impacts against and around the monster could be seen.

A few more meters, lungs burning and heart pounding in his ears, Emil threw himself towards the mostly-intact, incredibly purple car that Cable the rigger had hotwired for him as the driver's side door popped open. A four-wheeled full-sized sedan made by the Fyrd motor company. Bulky and hideous, but a lot faster than his bleeding feet. Salvation. A way out. Out of reach of the monsters, stray artillery shells and rockets, and maybe, just maybe, a nuclear explosion.

"There we go!" shoulted Cable triumphantly. "Let's floor it!" The car accelerated with the whirr of electric motors and the screeching of tires as the Anacosticar accelerated at a leisurely fast pace. Not a world-beater, but perhaps enough to get up to speed and get away.

There was a sudden popping noise and Emil felt a sharp pain in his neck, and looked down to see blood gushing onto the driver's side door. From his jugular. The sabertooth promptly screamed in pain and slumped over, causing the car to crash into a bollard.

---

"CUT! CUT! CUT!" The producer screamed as the effects track cut out, a few more squibs and smoke pots popping before everything could be safely shut down. "Uh, medic!" The worklights came up, casting a harsh bluish glare through the effects smoke. The trid projection of the giant monster and cityscape flickered to a blue screen. The stagehands stood around in shock.

Avocado vaulted a street fixture, emergency kit in hand. The protogen yanked the car door loose and began tending to the bleeding street samurai, clamping an Israeli bandage over the wound. "Frak! This is bad! Oppiz, get over here and get this sealed up. I think the chunk passed through, it's that bloody thing in the passenger's seat."

Oppiz squeezed in next to Avocado and began working her magic. "You have way too much metal in you, kitty...this would work a lot better if you weren't all chromed up. Cable, can you mop up some of this blood?"

"I'm really sorry!" shouted the producer. "The squib was supposed to be a near miss from arti-"

"Put the camera away and call DocWagon, you gonk!" yelled Blackstar. "You nearly killed Emil! Oh snap, never mind, Emil's biomonitor just went off. I hope you have everything in here insured..."

It's really amazing what a DocWagon team can tear through to get to a patient, especially if it's flimsy set constructuion. They don't call it a surprise party for nothing. The producer was left standing in the ruins, jaw agape, as the medical response team hauled Emil off. Oppiz, Cable, Avocado, and Blackstar gave one last wordless look around, walked through the hole in the wall, got in the van, and drove off.

---

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kSW7Rh88eQ&t=202s - "First Session" - Raphael Müller

The team sat around a table in the back room of a cafe, surrounding their fixer, a very-stressed looking she-lynx. Emil's neck was still wrapped in a bandage and there were death glares all around.

“The producer spent the entire film shoot doing nude scenes just to ogle me, had me felt up on camera, then I nearly died from a bad pyrotechnic. Emil shouted at the lynx. "This was supposed to be a soymilk run, Susan!”

“T-they’re going to pay out a b-b-bonus to get you to not press charges," stammered Susan, ears flattened and eyes wide...if you come back for the sequel. They want a sabertooth kaiju, they say you're perfect for-”

“No! No sequel! Do I need to get a new fixer?!”

“P-put the claws away. I’ll do what I can with the dog.”

“Just get me my pound of flesh and a normal job.”

"Emil," said Blackstar, "Ease up on the pressure a bit, you're going to give Sue a heart attack. Or blow out my husband's hard work and make a bloody mess on the floor."

“I’ll try." Emil reluctantly retracted his claws and sat back down.

“There is no try, only do, Emil.”

“A fan of the classics, I see. Heh...okay, I'll leave it to you."

"Thanks, Emil. Remember, this is my job, not yours." The bat turned to Susan. "One, we need to get paid for this misadventure. Two, no more movies, especially not with that dog. Three, get us a job where Emil can wear pants."

---

I decided that it was a good idea to Get Me Rewrite and not kill Emil off to spite everyone. He's supposed to have a bright future ahead of him. Heck, he's due to get a fursuit in a few months. I guess I just let the stress of this month get to me.

This wasn't supposed to be a long write-up but it somehow turned into a 5,000 word short story. Go figure. If you've managed to read this far, thanks! You didn't get overly fixated on the fanservice and hopefully had some fun along the way.

---

Artwork © of me
Characters © of their respective owners
Concepts shamelessly looted from various sources

---

"Frankly my dear, we shouldn't be in pictures."