You aren't sure when you passed out, but you awake to feel a subtle warmth on your skin. The scent of rusted metal and warm soup that you couldn't smell earlier. A smile graces your lips as you put together what that means. It's your turn.

Your eyes open to show Phre passed out, the brown feathers of her wings adorably sprawled out across her own cot as they alway are when she sleeps. A chuckle pushes out of your lungs, and you lift a hand to reach for her hair when you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Jumping up, you can see the man Satyr met before, although he is up now, his marked up arms wrapped around his pulled up knees.

"Oh joy, you're awake now," he points out before leaning his head back against the metal wall with a sigh. "What's the plan now? Yell at me again? Tell me how I'm a spy against you all?"

"No," you reply with a yawn, your tongue curling out of your mouth as you yawn wildly. Sleep still pulls at your eyes, but sleep means relinquishing the time you have, and time is precious. "I don't care for things like that. I'm more interested in learning why you're here."

His fingers twitch a bit in shock, his eyes flicking up at you in confusion. "Well that's certainly different from before. I guess the legends about Chimeras are true then. You really do have three heads." He taps a finger against his set jaw for a moment in thought. "Too bad the first one decided to butt me with your horns."

"Yeah well maybe don't come in looking all suspicious next time and I won't have to be like that," Satyr shouts from the back of your mind, but you ignore her.

"I'm not going to apologize, if that's what you're looking for," you explain, glancing at the dark tips of your claws. Satyr thankfully managed not to bite them in your absence. A first.

"Not at all. Like I said, I'm looking for help," the Griffin says, taking off his black beanie to shake his grey hair wildly. You watch as a few feathers fall out with it, drifting slowly to the floor. He replaces it.

"Help? I don't see why we can't offer that. A favor for a favor," Fidi muses, her tongue flicking out of her mouth in subtle amusement.

I don't do tricks, especially when he's given me no reason to... Yet. You don't relay this to him though, choosing instead to push yourself off the chair beside your girlfriend to take a seat next to him. She would have to wait.

Instead, you focus on him: a stranger with far too many promises for your liking. "I don't like being asked to help from someone claiming the impossible before they've even told me their name," you hint, making sure the small growl to your words conveys your seriousness.

"You can call me Griffin."

You narrow your eyes at him. "That's your race, not your name. You're not helping your cause."

A groan drawls out of his mouth, going on for an incessantly long time, and you are reminded of why you dislike men. "That's just how Archeron operates. Your race is your name there. I thought you'd already know that."

Your skin bristles at the reminder. Satyr isn't your name, and it's why you aren't obligated to keep it. That was an old life, when you were forced to be something you were not, in more ways than one.

"I thought it was a cool name..."

And that's why you weren't asked, you remark to her before focusing back on the man. "Just because I know that, doesn't mean I agree with it. I'd prefer your real name." Your fingers drum against the belts hanging off your pants, clicking out the seconds he takes to answer.

But instead, he fiddles with his hat again, not looking at you, which is irksome in its own right. "... I don't have one."

Your heart feels like it's being tugged on before you can stop it. It's too similar. "Then make one."

"Do I look like the creative type to you? Why does it even matter anyway?"

"Because the Beasts have already lost so much. Wouldn't it be nice to have something that's entirely your own, that no one can take from you?" The man jerks back a bit as you stare at him intently, waiting for an answer.

He grits his teeth. "Chiffon."

"Bless you?" Satyr calls out, and you aren't far from repeating her.

"Excuse me?"

"Look, you wanted a name, you got a name. Happy?" The tufted end of his lion-like tail twitches in annoyance.

"Not particularly," you reply with a shrug. "But no Beast is." Your eyes trail over to Phre, the way her fair features lay so peacefully in sleep, the way they never do when she wakes, no matter how much you hold her, how hard you try to take it away. You turn your head back to 'Chiffon'. "But here you come, promising to change all that, in return for my help. Why?"

"Because I found a god."

You sigh, finally pushing back on the cot until you are lying back on the wall with him. "And even if that's true, how does that help us? The gods may have made us, but they let the demigods slaughter us for fame. For the Human's attention. Their children built a city of power on the bones of our people, and you think they will help?"

His hand drifts over to the dark tattoo on his forearm, fingers trailing over the handle of the scythe. "It was never that simple. The gods wanted balance, but their children stole that for worship, and when the old faith was forgotten... they lost everything. They died. All except for one. If we could just restore that balance-"

"So why me?"

"Like I said, I was sent by Acheron. From all the stories I'd heard about you, you were the best agent we had. The perfect mix of cunning, power, and ruthlessness... right up until the very end." A small chuckle escapes him as he tips his head, brushing a hand through his hair as an uneasy smile fills his face. "You know, they're still repairing everything you burnt down to this day."

"Good." You say it, but the feeling is mutual within you.

"...What I'm saying is this is the only lead we have, and I can't do it alone. No one at Acheron believes me, and-"

"Wait a moment," Fidi hisses, her head lifting to gaze into his face, stopping him in his tracks. "He's striking off on his own?"

"Damn. Why didn't he say so in the first place?" Satyr asks.

"...Is your tail going to keep staring at me? Can you stop?" Chiffon begs, and as you force Fidi to leave him be, he continues. "So, I started looking for whoever I could."

A deep sigh finally escapes your chest. It's a lot to process, and seems like a wild goose chase. Besides, if the gods really did die off, as he said, why is he so sure he's found one then? You go to ask him, when you hear a rustling noise to your right.

"Oh, good morning!" Phre chirps, adjusting a thin strap of her blue tank top that must have slipped off while she'd slept. "And how is our patient doing?"

"...I'm fi-"

"And I trust that now that you're feeling better, you'll be elaborating on this 'god' of yours, and it wasn't simply a bad hit to the head, right?" She tilts her head at him, an overly sweet smile on her face, and you try not to chuckle as she towers over Chiffon, easily above his height.

"Yes." He clears his throat, opening his mouth when you hear a bang in the distance, followed by a few shouts.

"...Why does it smell of outsiders here?" Your eyes widen at the sound of Asterion's voice, the braying of the Minotaur echoing through the thin, crumbling walls.

"There's a Griffon here. Says he's from Acheron," one of the younger members replies nonchalantly.

"There's a what?"

Your hearts rattle in your chest. "Lying snitch!" Satyr shouts, loud enough to make you wince before you look over at Phre.

Her mouth hangs open, her blue eyes darting from the bloodied shreds of the jacket on the floor, to the feathers sprawled out over the cot. "M-maybe we can explain?"

You simply blink at her. "I don't think even Fidi could word her way out of this." A Beast from another sanctuary, the same one you had discussed possibly raiding with the Minotaur days before?

"Not to mention that he's trying to steal his best agent for a wild goose chase," Fidi remarks calmly.

"And where are they?" Another roar from the Minotaur.

"In the medical bay, sir."

With a shove, Chiffon pushes himself to standing. "Shit." He turns to face you both. "Well, it was lovely chatting with you ladies, but Satyr, right? Can we get going now before your boss decides to cut me to pieces with his axe?"

"We?" you ask, meeting Phre's sharp blue eyes. "It's us. We're all going."

"What?" he shouts, his voice rising an octave as a door slams in the next room, the pounding of running feet beating with your heart. "That's not the agreement. You. Me. God. Let's go."

"Leiva!" You twist your head as Phre calls your name. She's fumbling with the door's lock, struggling to shove a small cabinet in front of it. "... I don't think is going to hold them off for long."

"You know what he wants, Leiva," Fidi whispers to you, your tail lifting as she rises to meet your gaze with her own sharp own. "So dangle it before him. You're in charge here."

You step towards Chiffon, flinching as the door is slammed against. "I don't think you understand. I can let Asterion in right now. I can tell him you are a traitor, and that will be that," you explain, watching the fear glint in the Griffon's yellow eyes. You don't even know if you want to go with him, but Phre's words echo in your mind.

'And part of me thinks you're starting to be okay with it too.'

No. I'm doing this. For her. Consequences be damned.

"So," you continue. "You agree to this, on my terms." Another thud. "Now."

"Okay okay the Harpie can come! Now let's get out of here!" he yells, and with a nod to Phre, she eases her back off the door.

A second after, the metal caves in, a dent warping the center with an awful clang. "I know you're in there, Griffon." The Minotaur's deep voice reverberates through the room. "I advise that you come out sooner rather than later."

A warm hand takes your own, Phre looking up at you nervously. "What now?"

"Now..." you trail, looking for exits. The only one is blocked, with the rest of the room being a hodgepodge of broken down boards, sheet metal taken from cars... anything that could be thrown together quickly, and taken down just as fast. A small smile curled at your lip as you catch sight of a patch made mostly of fence posts. "How do you feel about getting your chariot?"

Your smile is quickly returned. "I like this plan already."

You let go of her, facing the wall. It doesn't take much thought to call the heat to your throat, the hot feeling building up in your chest, but never burning. Brushing a hand over your horns, you take a deep inhale...

"Satyr!"

The door comes crashing down, Asterion's broad, horned figure pushing into the room. His hooves clack over the floor as he draws himself to his full height, axe hanging at his side, dumbfounded. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Quitting."

With that, flames lap at the roof of your mouth, and you are exhaling, forcing a wide burst of fire onto the wood. It ignites instantly, crackling as it quickly begins to burn. You wipe your forked mouth to remove the taste of ash left behind before hooking an arm over Chiffon's shoulder.

"Are you ready?"

"I'm not running through a wall of fire! Are you out of your mind?"

As the last strip of wood breaking in half, you lift your left hand. On the underside, you know the flame-shaped mark glows a bright red as the blaze rears up to your command. There's a lure to them, the way they dance along the walls, leaving nothing behind, but you cannot leave them. At least, not now.

With a clench of your fist, they extinguish in a puff of smoke, a hole left in their absence. "Better?"

"Satyr!" Asteron bellows once more, putting it together. His arm raises the axe, and even with your back turned, you can see from the eyes on your tail that he's running toward you. "You traitor!"

"Now!" Phre cries, ducking out of the room and into the main hall. You're not far behind her, dragging Chiffon along. It's too small, burnt edges scraping along your shoulder and leaving hot, sharp lines of pain behind. But that means it's too small for him as well.

Sure enough, as the eyes of a good twenty members fall upon you, standing with a traitor in the common room, you can hear the sound of hacking behind you, his axe chipping away at the opening.

You release your hold on Chiffon, waving for him to follow you through another doorway. Phre is already inside, grabbing any of her tools and fuel she can, piling it onto her motorcycle.

"Come on," you urge him. "We just have to-"

"Just have to what, Leiva?"

An alluring voice catches your attention, making you turn with a flinch. Crethis. He stands there, an innocent smile on his face as he runs his hand through his wavy, indigo hair, but you know all too well what happens when you meet his sea-green eyes.

"We're leaving," you growl even as a gasp elicits from several members behind him. There's no point hiding it now, but you doubt that honesty will get you anywhere.

"Ah, well I'm afraid I can't let you do that." He smiles behind his glasses again, putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Come on Leiva," Satyr whines. "Just punch him. What's he going to do if he can't look into your eyes? Heal you to death?"

Still, you stand there, Chiffon dashing off behind you, and you know Phre won't be much longer. You simply have to stall, a minute more at most. "Let us go, before there's trouble."

"Oh no. The trouble is already here."

Then there's a bang, and your collarbone is tearing, burning, bleeding. Your heart stops, only to beat faster as the pain splays out from the circular wound, weaving through your aching ribcage.

Crethis only tilts his head, the pistol in his hand never leaving your direction. On your right, the Minotaur breaks through with a crack, snorting air through his nose as he moves closer. "Do I make myself clear?"

"You son of Artemis!" Phre's screech cuts through the ringing in your ears. Then there's the revving of an engine, lights flaring up behind you.

"Look out!" Chiffon shouts, and with a jolt you notice the motorcycle careening towards you. Leaping back, it shoots past you, your mind processing it almost in slow motion as he reaches a clawed hand towards you, Phre's body bent forward as she drives it towards the Nymph.

You reach out to take it, then are yanked, everything catching up to full speed as the axe lands behind you, breaking through the floor where you stood only seconds ago. Screams ring out as Crethis leaps nimbly out of the way, the other Beasts in the room quickly following suit.

The entrance isn't far off, the bowing hole already showing the red of the sky, the last rays of the sun setting through the smog, but it seems far darker than it should be as your vision starts to blur. Your chest feels sticky, your fingers numbing even as you try to cling to the back of the Griffon, his wings tucked in to allow you more room.

The motorcycle lurches underneath you, tires screeching as it starts to ascend up and out of the hole that made up Styx.

"You're going to regret leaving the sanctuary!" Asterion shouts, his words filling your heart with pure dread. "You think you're safer anywhere else in this forsaken city? Good luck."

"We'll find you, Chimera." Crethis isn't nearly as loud, but his voice is chilling as you turn to look at the base one more time. Teenage Beasts piled in the corner, looking at each other fearfully, hammocks strung up along the side of the wall, one of them your's and Phre's.

All of my stuff is there. Everything. Your thoughts are slow as the bike bursts out of the entrance, and with that you are on the open street, warm wind whisking past you as Phre cranks up the speed. Your collar bone throbs again, your head spinning as the world begins to tip for a moment.

"Woah! Watch out there." A line of fur grazes your side, just under your cropped-off shirt as Chiffon catches you with his tail. "We don't need you falling onto the road."

"Just hold on a few minutes, Leiva!" Phre calls out, glancing behind her for a moment. "We're almost away from them. Then we can patch you up. Just a little while longer."

"Okay," you respond, but you can barely hear it, barely even feel the bullet in your flesh. It's like the vision fading from your eyes. One moment it's there, and the next? Gone.