I looked up and saw Dr. Rathpalla fly by overhead. The slowed time had slightly stretched his voice. There wasn't any trace of surprise in it, however, which made sense; I imagined Ibrahim had been processing the situation through slowed time, just like I was.

"It's Mrs. Elbock," I said.

"They'll attack her!"

Then a silver-eye tackled me, sending me head over tail.

"Well, I've got my claws full!" I said.

I roared at my attacker—a fearsome sound. Grabbing him with both hands, I launched myself forward with my powers, moving him below me and raising me up top, rotating the two of us a full turn around, like a pinwheel in the wind. Briefly slowing time, I wove a plexus at my back and let it ring, multiplying my weight to press my attacker onto the floor.

I sped time back up a little as I clawed into his underbelly. I pinned his arms to the tiled floor with my powers, and then went in with my claws, flinging up sparks as I raked my claws across his scales. I kept going until I broke through to the softer fungal flesh beneath, and then pushed off him and pulled myself up onto a car.

The transformee quivered on the ground like an ant once crushed.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Merritt get tackled by an airborne silver-eye.

"Merritt!"

A pataphysical blade slashed through the connections that had been forming between Merritt and the walking boulder. A second later, her attacker had ripped Merritt off the fungus creature. Bits of biomass still clung to Merritt's body here and there, quickly digging into her flesh and disappearing. Mrs. Elbock had already grown at least a foot and a half in length and several inches in girth.

I slithered toward them while Merritt's attacker was levitating the monster's remains into the air, and then launched a blast of psychokinesis with a sweep of my hand. My magic overwhelmed the transformee's, yanking his meal out of his grasp and bashing it against the wall, raining chunks and trails of amalgamated animal life down on everything nearby.

Unfortunately, unleashing that (very cool) attack of mine had come at a cost: my forcefield was down.

Fudge, I was exposed!

I had to keep moving!

Both Merritt and her attacker grew as they absorbed the monster kibble. The attacker even sprouted a snout.

As for me, a couple of strands of monster mash landed on my back. I could have woven up a new forcefield to keep them from touching me, but I didn't. I figured I was going to need a meal or two to help refill my power reserves considering everything I'd just done, not to mention everything I was probably about to do.

I slithered toward the ramp to the next floor down, layering myself with forcefields to shield my body from the nearby fungus creatures.

"Nurse Costran!" Karl yelled.

"What's he doing?" Andalon asked.

I glanced in the direction of the young man's transfigured voice—deep and polyphonic, instead of nasal and hesitant.

I think he's trying to get through to her.

Bless his heart.

One of the good wyrms—a lizard-like transformee—flew past me, overhead.

"Dr. Howle, what are you doing!?" Tightening his body like a spring, the guy launched a wall of force at a wyrm that was charging right at him.

"I need to get down to the third level," I said, "and I need help."

"Don't we all?"

"No," I said, "you don't understand. There are survivors in the third sub-basement; they're under attack!"

The transformee's eyes went wide. "No shit…"

I spied movement at the top of my vision just in time to yell: "Look out!"

As the lizard-guy looked up, I launched a wall of force wall up at the fully transformed silver-eyed wyrm dive-bombing at him from overhead, but the wyrm darted around my barrier and struck with claws and psychokinesis, launching Lizard-Guy into a support pillar while giving itself unobstructed access to a tentacle-hedgehog, which it promptly smashed its body into.

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The fungus creature's biomass quickly flowed across the wyrm's body, seamlessly merging with it, growing it almost three feet longer in a matter of seconds. Structures like antlers or clubbed fungus sprouted from the back of its head, constructed with its body's bold red scales.

Yuta! Geoffrey!

I yelled inside my mind.

The spirit-warriors answered my summons. I wove plexuses around their weapons as they appeared at either side of me. There was no need for any other words or commands. They knew what had to be done.

Yuta and Geoffrey charged at the red wyrm. Geoffrey brought his halberd's blade down on its neck, while Yuta struck his katana along its flank.

Meanwhile, I used a psychic boost to toss myself at Lizard-Guy, who slid down the wall and fell onto the roof of a car. Seeing him had given me an idea.

My spirit-guardians slashed at the mess of creatures tailing me as they floated beside me. The critters were going so far as to leap through cars, shattering windows in their desperate frenzy to reach me.

I slithered up the side of the car, grabbed Lizard-Guy, and pulled him down.

"Are you alright?"

Shaking his head, he got to his feet.

I heard a roar behind me. Turning, I saw spores sprayed out from the gash Geoffrey had opened up in the red wyrm's neck. The silver-eye writhed on the ground, obviously in tremendous pain.

Man, one wrong move, and that could have been me.

Though several of the fungus creatures threw themselves onto the red wyrm to speed its regeneration, most of them skittered around the wyrm, bypassing it in favor of me. Diverting away some of the power I'd leant Yuta and Geoffrey, I capped my claws with plexus drills and set them to whirl. I clawed at the many-legged monstrosities, splattering dark biomass left and right in a song of a thousand blenders.

Unfortunately, this also earned the ire of several of my allies

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Both Ibrahim and Lizard-Guy yelled at me at the same time. Seeing that, one of Verune's transformees seized the opportunity and launched himself down at Ibrahim, only to slam—CRUNCH!—on the tile floor when Dr. Rathpalla swerved out of the way.

"Why are you wasting that biomass!?" Ibrahim yelled. "Use them to change!"

"I can't!" I said. I pointed toward the sky "My family is still out there, Ibrahim. I want to talk to them one last time, while I still can!"

Ibrahim shot me a wide-eyed stare.

The transformee from before flopped back onto his belly and struck, and this time, he made contact, slamming his tail into Ibrahim's flank. The blow knocked Ibrahim into a rather good-looking Model 7 Black Swan sedan, crumpling it like paper.

I looked Lizard-Guy in the eyes. "Come with me. I'm heading down to the third basement level, I'll need back-up to keep me from transforming."

But then I stopped myself.

Fudge, I thought.

I raised my head, cupped a hand at my mouth and yelled. "Merritt, I—"

Merritt trumpeted back and slithered toward me.

"Don't worry about me!" she said.

"But—"

—But Mrs. Elbock didn't give me a chance to reply, pushing me away with her psychokinesis and slithering into battle.

"Ibrahim," I said, "you'd better keep Merritt safe, or… so help me…!"

"Get going, Genneth!" Dr. Rathpalla was currently wailing on his opponent with his claws.

He'd definitely regained the upper hand.

Nodding, I turned back to Lizard-Guy.

"Well?"

Yuta and Geoffrey kept the fungus creatures at bay. Fortunately, the tide seemed to be thinning—mostly because the other transformees were gobbling the critters up.

For a split second, Lizard-Guy stared at me, mulling over my words. I wondered just how much time was passing inside his mind.

Then he nodded. "Fine, let's go."

"W-Wait," I said, "just like that?" His suddenness was definitely a little shocking.

He scoffed. "You're not used to taking the lead, are you?" He floated off the ground and took flight.

"Well, I'm learning!" I said, as I launched myself over several rows of cars. I wrapped myself in a plexus to use as a cushion for my landing. It made the landing painless, and let me neatly roll onto my belly right after hitting the ground.

A polyphonic voice boomed as we rounded the corner: "Howle, look ow!"

Barely had I looked over my shoulder toward the sound then two transformees came flying toward me. By the sound of the voice and the color of his vomit-red scales, I recognized one of them as Larry the janitor, who swerved at the charging silver-eye like a frisbee player mid-tackle. The two of them crashed into the wall in front of us, next to which the floor descended in a ramp to the garage level below. The silver-eyed used its tail like a whip, sweeping it out in a wide strike as it flopped around.

Tensing my underbelly, I grabbed the wyrm's tail and pulled with all my might. Wrapping plexuses around my arms and hands to bolster my strength, I dragged the wyrm along the floor. It raked its claws on the tile, sending up sparks as it shredded the mosaics and the mortar between them.

I yelled. "Geoffrey, Yuta, get its eyes!"

My friends made quick work of those silver orbs, stabbing all six of them in short order.

The wyrm reared up and roared.

I yelled. "Let's go!"

I ducked low to the ground and slithered down the incline where the floor tilted down and became the ramp to the second basement level. I had to pass through the black metal fencing that Vernon's men must have erected to block the path, not that there was much to contend with. The fencing was utterly wrecked; no doubt, the fungal creatures had broken through it with ease.

Even now, the remaining parts ripped to shreds as I scraped them across the ground while sliding past.

Suddenly, the antique sea mosaic tiles of the garage's famous first floor gave way to plain old concrete. With all the mortar in between the individual fragments, the tile had been much rougher than the concrete ramp now underneath me, which made the ramp as slippery as heck. Floundering, I flopped onto my belly and slid down the ramp face first. I dug my claws into the concrete as best as I could, sending out sparks as I slowed my descent.

There was an unearthly shriek.

Raising my head, I got a view of the garage's second floor. The ground was so thick with fungus creatures, I could barely see the cars and the concrete beneath them.

And all of them were racing right…

…toward…

…me.

"Fudge."

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