"Henry, what the hell is going on?"

The sounds of Martin's befuddlement almost didn't reach him. His words were more like a faint echo in the distance to him, the sound of rushing blood pounding in Henry's ears was almost too loud to make out anything else. He barely dared to breathe as he maintained eye contact with the cat, only taking in the shallowest amount of air possible with each breath so that he betrayed not a sound or even a twitch. The black cat stared unblinkingly back down at him, tail swishing back and forth every so often as it… observed.

And all he could do was keep staring back.

Is this what a panic attack's like? Heyyy, kitty… Please just move on quick and leave us be-

"HENRY!!"

Martin's shout snapped him out of the moment, echoing down the long tunnel behind him and causing him to jolt upright. Likewise, the rapt attention of the house pet broke off from him, now squarely focused on Martin instead. And, by extension, everyone else in the group of survivors.

Shit. That was possibly the worst case scenario to happen. Now he needed to explain himself quickly so that nobody else did anything rash.

Martin reiterated his original question. "The hell's gotten into you? Something wrong with the cat up there?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but one of his duplicates leaned in close to Martin and headed him off at the pass. It had taken them a while to return to the front of the group after the sudden hold-up, but now that they were here they'd also recognized the feline immediately. Rather than let him blurt out the imminent dangers for everyone to hear, the copy closest to Martin took the chance to carefully approach and clue him in on the details.

His words were quiet, too quiet for himself to overhear but definitely ones he already knew by heart anyway. And, as the conversation continued along, the mage's face grew paler and paler in response.

Being the same person as the one doing the talking, in a sense, gave him a near perfect idea of what was being said. He would have started off with some common knowledge; perhaps the anecdote that most superstitions in Hallow London were just that, superstition. However, a few actually held tangible weight to their claims.

Take, for example, a rumor about the disappearance of an entire thrall-camp in the course of about a week, through no apparent outside intervention. The bodies of both thrall and vampire overlord alike had simply turned up dead in the aftermath, causing much confusion amongst the ranks of the Knights that had been sent to clear them out. In a shocking turn of events that had yet to be repeated, the thralls had somehow broken free of their compelled chains and moved to tear their masters limb from limb.

With their bare hands. Regardless of how many casualties they sustained on their side.

Lastly, he imagined the copy finished off his little tangent with an admission that he'd been in the area at the time to see the true cause of that bloodbath. A few days prior, he'd spotted this particular cat in the distance as he'd been scavenging for the Nobles. At the time, he'd just considered it a bit odd; after all, small animals had been decimated even more than humans had in the confines of the Shroud. Seeing that one was miraculously still alive, despite everything, warranted a closer look in his eyes.

Then he started seeing what happened to those who got close to it, and decided rightly that the best place to be was as far away from it as humanly possible.

The pattern revealed had been simple. Favorable outcomes for the cat, highly disproportionate unfavorable outcomes for anything even remotely adjacent to it. A whole thrall-camp pulling a Jonestown was just the most outspoken example. He'd seen Club thugs and other random passersby get hernias from bending over to pet it, slip on perfectly dry concrete and break their necks, and even saw one particularly unfortunate werewolf die from a heart attack, just before it tried to pounce on the unassuming creature.

He hadn't even known that that was an option for the beasts.

"So, for the love of all that is good and holy," the duplicate's voice raised up, making sure everyone heard the most important details. "Do NOT give that thing a reason to be interested in us."

"Huh. That's strange…" Robb spoke out to nobody in particular, giving the cat a closer inspection heedless of Henry's strangled gasp upon seeing what he was doing. "He's wearing a collar, and there's a name tag on it. Comet, it says."

The duplicates collectively choked in exasperation at his dangerously close proximity.

"Okay, great," Henry responded frantically. "Cute name, Robb. Now please, do us all a favor and step away from the ticking time bo-"

"Miau."

Too late.

In one fluid motion, the cat hopped down from its perch onto the damp paving stones below. From where it was aiming, you would have though it was on a collision course to splash down into the water, but… no.

The ground had to rumble ever so slightly, causing a few sections of the pavement below to mound up above the water level. One of which happened to appear directly beneath it as it landed. It touched down soundlessly, without so much as a drop splashing up on it.

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It sauntered past Robb, apparently uninterested. Past Martin and the other mages, who after the casual display of world-bending magic were suddenly very motivated to remove themselves from the premises at his behest. No, it decided to beeline directly for his copies, who immediately started backing off in three separate directions.

Meanwhile, he was absolutely certain that he was panicking.

Comet narrowed in on one particular copy. The one who had gone deaf from rapid-firing the revolver. He looked down at the cat, then back to the rest of them, then back to the cat again. In that moment, he made up his mind.

"Go!", the deafened clone shouted to the rest of them. "I'll do what I can!"

He started deliberately backing up further and further down the tunnel, away from everyone else for as long as he could stay upright. Whatever Exotic Domain the cat had, it had yet to trigger on him as it followed after him into the opaque wall of fog, but it seemed it would be only a manner of time.

Well, damn. If that wasn't some sort of noble, truly nothing in this world was.

Henry and the other two clones hurriedly ran off to grant that final wish, leaving their deafened compatriot to the fate he was willing to resign himself to.

< -|- -|- >

The duplicate was glad that it was him that got singled out, honestly. Out of everyone this cat could have taken a particular interest in, he was probably the one best suited for playing the part of sacrificial pawn. It was up to him to buy as much time as he could for the rest of them, now. After that, he could finally be done with the long stretches of silence pierced only by his own auditory hallucinations.

Wonder what unfortunate fate awaits me at the end of this… he wondered. As carefully as he could, he took one step back after another, keeping the cat squarely in his line of sight as he led it further and further away.

It approached cautiously in turn, staring at him with those same wide, curious eyes. The small plate of metal dangling from it's collar swayed back and forth as it slowly approached, occasionally reflecting the light of his own talisman off the polished brassy surface as it spun around lazily like a child's mobile.

For the first time, he got a good look at what the letters on the plate read. Comet. Part of him wondered where the owner was in all of this. Most likely dead, sadly.

Comet stopped just a few paces short of where he stood, looking up at him expectantly. When he tried to take another step back, he felt his back press against the rusted undercarriage of an old truck that groaned dangerously with the slight shift in its weight distribution. When he tried to step around the blockage, the cat hissed at him.

Best not risk it. As funny as it might sound, for now he was completely willing to take orders from a cat, if it meant more time for the rest to escape. Stood perfectly stock still, he wondered what he could do in this situation other than pray that the storm might pass with due time.

The gun? No, in all likelihood he'd manage to shoot himself, somehow. Others had died for far less, so brute forcing it, gun or otherwise, seemed like the worst possible option to go with, for now.

Make a run for it, regardless of what the cat thinks? Full on sprinting might be inadvisable, but he supposed if he got on his hands and knees and crawled, he could suffer a bit of humiliation while no one was looking if he really wanted to get out of here without accidentally cracking his head open. His instincts, however, were screaming to him that what might theoretically work out might lead to the exact outcome he was trying to avoid.

So, that just left him with entering the zone of truly crazy ideas. What else did he have on him…

His notes on potential artifact locations, firstly. Not really helpful here. Though, it did remind him that he would need to make sure it was destroyed before he died. The mental reminder cost him precious seconds, as Comet started approaching closer and closer.

The gauze in his satchel? Not sure what it might do, but that was the only thing he still had on him...

...Oh. Wait a minute. Through everything that had happened in the past week, he'd totally forgotten that he still had his key ring. An incredibly stupid idea popped into his mind as he remembered.

If I'm probably going to die, anyway… why not try for the craziest outcome possible?

The slight clink of metal as he pulled it out of his pocket immediately caught Comet's attention. Dangling the ring between his index finger and thumb, he kneeled down and decided to have a little fun. Just to see what would happen.

"Hey, there, little guy…" He jangled the keys just a bit above Comet's head, ears flicking each time one of the bits of metal jostled together. At least, he was pretty sure it was each time they came together. It was a bit weird, knowing the sound something should be making and there just being nothing there when it happens. His mind was trying to fill in the gaps, but something about it just felt... off. He wondered if he sounded just as different to everyone else when he spoke.

Comet kept his eyes trained dead onto every little jerking motion on the key ring, utterly captivated by the shiny pendulum. After a while, he even started batting at it, too. Like a regular house cat. It was completely surreal, trying to reconcile this practically domestic image in front of him with the wanton destruction he'd seen in its wake. He had seen it, right? It couldn't be that this all some big, elaborate trick, and he was just gaslighting himself into believing there was some great danger, surely. And there was definitely no denying it was a Devil, from this close...

Hmm... It had been a few months since they'd last crossed paths...

Unaware of how long he spent messing around like that, the minutes slowly slipped by. If he was being perfectly honest, he was actually enjoying himself too, just a bit. Maybe now if he tried to wrap this up and leave…

He tried to get up to one knee and nearly twisted his ankle. On perfectly flat, if not soaked ground. A bit too close for his comfort, so he decided that he could wait a bit longer and keep playing.

So long as the keys kept Comet's interest, the two of them just kept on keeping on.

"Heh… maybe you're not so bad after all…"

The cat batted away at the key ring for a little while longer, before slowly losing interest and returning to stare directly at him. His time had run out, it would seem.

"Right…" Henry sighed, letting the keys drop into the water in front of it, much to the joy of the little furball. "Well, here's hoping you make it quick, at least. I'm ready to-"

Another auditory hallucination wandered through his mind, causing him to stop midsentence and get distracted. Little snippets of music he'd listened to, but out of order and pulled from multiple songs at once. Somewhere off in the distance, but not from any discernible point. They were always like that. Unsorted, jumbled, and yet still coherent enough to recognize a bit. He wondered if one would eventually straighten itself out, before he died.

Comet picked up the key ring in his mouth, parading it around like a prized trophy before curling up besides him. The key to his old flat poked him at an odd angle, and despite not being anywhere near sharp enough to do so, he winced in pain as the tip sliced neatly across his leg, drawing blood.

There it was. The beginning of the end. Would the keys finish him off somehow, or would something else? Maybe the old car behind him would finally tip over-

His ears popped, and a torrent of sensory information flooded back into his head after days of absence. The slow dripping of falling water rang in his ears like great church bells. His own keys rattling sounded like an avalanche. Comet was purring, apparently, though in his sudden stupor it felt more like the rumblings of some great beast, louder than any howling wolf he'd ever heard.

His… his hearing was back.

"W-What?!" He nearly fell over on his side in shock. His own voice sounded in his ears. He hadn't realized just how much he'd been missing.

Comet looked up at him and cocked his head to the side, keys finally falling to the ground abandoned.

"Wait… that wasn't you who did that, was it?! I thought you were going to-"

His questioning came to an abrupt halt. From the entrance of the tunnel, a bullet tore through the air overhead, cracking like a thunderbolt. He flinched, raising his arms up in alarm to cover his ears, but from his covered position he figured he would have no problems with the blind fire.

Then the bullet reversed direction with a blazing trail of light, and crashed into his reactive shield. Henry recoiled from the absorbed impact, causing both himself and his new feline companion to jump to attention. Water splashed around him like a tsunami as he scrambled to find a way to escape the line of fire, caught in analysis paralysis as he found and discarded hiding spots by the handful.

He recognized that magic. How could you hide from bullets that physically can't miss?

A low, rumbling laugh with a distinct Scottish accent seemed to sound out at him from every angle, multiple times from each location.

"Time to pay the fookin' piper, Henry!"

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