Xindii fell to the grass choking and retching, the cacophony of Kiko and Mensch and Godrich still echoing along the shoreline.

Something hovered over him, something with a condescending stare.

'Have you had enough, Mapper?'

Xindii spat onto the grass and pulled himself up, meeting the Mutter-Sloth head on.

That rictus grin stretched across its face once more, pulled so far that bone almost pierced the red flesh.

'You have metal indeed, Mapper.'

'What happened here?'

It pursed its lips, almost entertaining the little man and turned to the quarrelling on the beach.

'I love humanity, capable of so much. Sometimes they can be so loving, yet tomorrow so cruel. I have fed off them for millennia and they never cease to amaze me. They drag themselves through mud and shit but carry on regardless.

'This moment - right here, Mapper - is one of my favourites. Experience moulds them into either saint or sinner . . .'

It looked at Xindii and winked.

' . . . I prefer the sinner, so much for me to endure. I love humans . . . But it's been a while since I ate a whole one . . .'

'Who are you, really?'

It elongated itself with its massive muscular tail and hovered in front of Xindii, malevolence festering in the corner of its mouth in a frothing white spittle.

'Vengeance and hunger, Mapper. Too long I have slumbered in this place. My time is come . . .'

It pulled away from Xindii on a wave of preposition, leaving questions hanging in the ether like burning stars. Its laughter like that of a ticklish child echoing through the hollow trees, reverberating through the glade.

Xindii felt it, the hackles rising on the back of his neck. That age old contribution from evolution that alerted the hunted to run.

Xindii had dealt with miscreants and murderers. Serial killers and rapists, cannibal tribesmen and bad tempered angels, but nothing compared to them more than the feeling he had in the presence of the Mutter-Sloth, which in itself he knew was a façade; a smokescreen to hide its true visage.

What was it? He knew not. But it reeked of ancient. It had ran, and hid. Skulking within humankind. Manifested within the mind of a killer, housed and sheltered. Untouchable . . .

Not anymore.

Did the killer know they housed a transient hobo? Probably not. But Xindii would bring it to book, whatever it was. He was going to bring the house down.

'I will find you. Seek you out.'

The laughter stopped.

Silence.

'Then come, Mapper. Seek me out.'

Xindii took a step forward and then heard the snarling growls behind him.

Laughter.

He looked over his shoulder at Kiko and Mensch, the blank slate canvases of their faces ripping and splitting into mouths and snouts protruding into feral jaws of razor sharp teeth. Ribbons of flesh hung from the edges of their rabid faces, mane-like. Godrich and the girl, followed suit, bones cracking hunched forward, saliva oozing in buckets, flesh and bone malleable matter to the will of the Mutter-Sloth. The sentinels were awake.

'Seek me out, Mapper. If you have the time . . .'

The feral Mensch started to creep forward, snarling; baring teeth.

Xindii ran into the glade at breakneck speed, Kiko following the scent of the fearful Mapper and the trail of her sibling. Godrich and the girl pelted after them, afraid of missing the sport.

It had been a while since he ran but his lungs stood proud against the challenge. The Mapper wasn't totally ignorant of exercise. Every now and again he took tennis with Professor Dorvish and his vigorous walks with Babar over the fields of Varosium always put him in good stead. But this was different, not since the army had he ran like this. Back in the day manoeuvres in Tattermovish or Salt would have seen him on ten mile hikes across unknown topography, rain or shine, hail or wind. Landscapes to test the calves, sharpen zeal. That was a long time ago. Back then he had a rifle strapped to his back and a ten inch Farian gutter blade hanging from his utility belt. Plus, he was in the mind of a killer which housed a transient horror from millennia gone by.

He ran.

To die here would mean an empty husk of a man back in the Watch HQ. He had to get back. Xindii swerved through the shrubbery, leaping over mounds of earth and stray logs. Kiko bit at his heels but the old soldier didn't give in, turning around sharply with his foot to swat her around the head with his boot. She yelped and crashed into a bed of lava nettles, her painful burning cries rousing the attention of Mensch who came pounding over the mound leaping at Xindii's throat.

The Mapper ducked as the mutated Nesscalite landed upon the grass, turning about and hissing through solid clenched teeth, flared nostrils; ready for the killing bite.

Mensch leapt and Xindii made a pre-emptive strike, left hand grabbing the clenched fist of his right and bringing about the hammer of his arm; old army elbows, fashioned by war met Mensch's face in midair turning the creature about and landing on its back, out cold.

Godrich then leapt at the Mapper as they landed in a pile of dead cosoto blossom, the two writhing upon the forest floor, snapping and punching. Godrich bit into the Mapper's arm, drawing blood so he used what reserve he had to hit the creature square in the chest to wind it and then kicked the mutation across the grass.

Kiko leapt from the lava nettles, her hind burning with acidic venom. Mensch pulled itself up, confused and vengeful. The girl then appeared from the undergrowth, stealth-like, as if she had been observing from the outset, watching her pack wear out the prey.

Xindii breathed deeply, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. Godrich had severed the flesh of his arm and it poured like tap water, rousing the hunger of the others.

He needed time, a moment to ready his escape. He looked into himself - nothing more than a shadow of dream - and followed his heart, lightyears away in a laboratory in Brentish, Testament. There it would beat for him, a beacon; a trail to follow home. He grabbed it and didn't let go. Da-Dum.

Time.

'I will seek you out. And you will fail.'

Laughter.

Its voice echoed through the hollow trees.

'YOU. You know not what you are up against little Mapper man.'

Xindii coiled the Beat around him like a safety rope. Its volume grew, intensifying.

Da-Dum. DA-DUM.

'You have me, at your knees. Why don't you tell me? I'm not going anywhere. You've won. Show me your true face, or are you afraid?'

'Afraid? Afraid of you little Mapper man. I, who has traversed the event horizon unscathed, bathed in the blood of a thousand worlds, toppled gods and defied the laws of creation. You, YOU test me?'

'Forgive me . . .'

'Hear your pitiful self, begging in your last moments.'

'Forgive me, I just wanted to know what it was I'm going to kill.'

'OOOOHHHhhhhh, I will take great pleasure in plucking you apart, little dear.'

Xindii felt the Reverie forming in his palm, a solid ball of light that begged to be splayed open.

'Well, I'm sorry but I have to be going.'

It laughed.

'And where do you suppose you can hide in here. This is my domain, little Mapper man.'

'Oh I'm not hiding in here . . .'

Xindii readied his palm, tugged on the Beat.

The tone of the Mutter-Sloth started to change, an almost fearful realisation that it was being hoodwinked.

'Wait . . . you delay.'

Xindii brought his hands up, the Reverie burning like a star in his left hand.

'KILL HIM.'

The Mapper smiled. 'Sorry, tennis at three.'

He clapped his hands and bathed the Hollow Glade in a fabulous burning blue light and in that instance Professor Heironymous Xindii tugged on his heart and catapulted himself across uncharted skies and lands, light years and dimensions became one; dovetailed. Coalesced into a symmetry of pathways only a Mapper could create and landed, albeit, rather bumpily in his own brain.