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HEY! Do you know what came out yesterday? HUNGRY’S NEW WEB SERIAL!

That’s right, the author of Katalepsis and Necroepilogos has begun a new project, and this one is about MAGICAL GIRLS! Magical girl cosmic horror! Magical girl sapphic yearning! If you’re still reading TMGM, this should be exactly your jam, so go check out Maidens of the Fall!

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The inner Spire stands tall at the center of the park. Like the real Tower, it’s the singular highlight of a commercial cul-de-sac, surrounded by businesses gleeful to squat in its shadow, but that similarity is an illusion. The restaurants and cafes are just facades, their doors and windows painted on. The fountain’s contents are sculpted glass rather than water. It’s all a lie.

Up close, the Spire glows with multicolored light just like the one we’re technically inside, a sign of resonant energy being absorbed from the World of Glass and transferred somewhere else. The doors to this Spire are crossed with another set of golden chains.

Howl examines the ward with a frown. “I don’t think I can really tell the difference between Hastur’s work and something Venus built, so no clues there. Agatha?”

The magical girl fidgets with her glasses. “All the threads were leading here, but I think if I tried to take a look now I’d throw up again. Up close, this much density… it would be bad.”

“Nothing for it!” I say cheerfully, and then I knock.

My fist bounces off a wall of golden energy that flashes visible for only a brief moment. The sensation is tingly rather than painful, though I still rub my hand gingerly and glare at the barrier in mock outrage. Howl rolls her eyes at my antics.

“Rude,” I mutter at the door.

Up above, the sound of creaking and grinding echoes. The entity within the bundled tent-cloth writhes and shifts, a myriad of half-seen shapes pressing against the surface of its fragile prison. A vast metal hand tears through the fabric, ripping open a great gash that the rest of its body follows through, and it’s…

It’s a giant Yokohime Rin. It’s another animatronic mascot, pink and frilly and anime-faced, only ten times the size.

The giant robot crashes down on the other side of the cul-de-sac, by the entrance, its weight shattering the cobblestone street. Then it strikes a cutesy pose and throws up double peace signs.

“Did you know?” its bubbly voice rings out. “This boss fight is sponsored by Betty Crocker, your number one source for cake mix! Try our affiliate flavor, ‘Mahou Shoujo Sprinkle Surprise!’ Just like mom used to make!”

Howl twitches. “I hate it. Why couldn’t it have been another fucked up angel?”

“It’s kind of charming,” I muse. “Horrible, but charming.”

Agatha taps her chin. “There’s an interesting implication to this choice of enemy. Venus is clearly trying to convey some sort of message, but what?”

“Okay!” the robot says. “Time for violence!”

Its eyes flash, twin laser beams sweep across the courtyard, and we scatter.

Agatha shapes ice barriers to pen the giant in, Howl takes aim for its eyes, and I start summoning. I’ve been working on a new type of familiar—something that, like the deimovore imitations, are never going to get used in my public persona as a Visage witch—and this will be their first live combat trial.

I call the schematics to mind, pour forth flame, and conjure my first wave of cyberdemons. Fusions of infernal flesh and advanced machinery, I’ve augmented my original familiars with Ferromancer’s technology to create delightful abominations that straddle the line between Doom monsters (hence the name) and the Phyrexians from Magic: the Gathering.

Despite the tension that grew between us after my first foray into the World of Glass, I still appreciate having Ferromancer as my mentor. With my importance to the conspiracy justifying extra expenditures, I’ve been allowed to feed dozens of Ferromancer’s inventions to my furnace. And, as it was fed, something about it has grown; my quantity of flame isn’t greater, exactly, but my budget for complexity is higher. Advanced designs have become simpler for Prometheus to recreate, and that allows me to produce in numbers the kinds of familiars that would have taken most of my flame just a month ago.

Each scaled, horned, fire-blooded demon is equipped with cybernetic eyes for targeting, jet boosters welded to the spine for limited bursts of flight, and a plasma cannon in the place of its left hand. With a mental command—and on certain preprogrammed triggers—the cannon will drain power from the rest of the demon’s systems to explode violently.

My cyberdemons spread out around the courtyard and start blasting the giant robot. Plasma melts and warps its metallic skin, but the animatronic cheers, “Wow! That tickles! Look how much fun we’re having together!” It pounds its fists against one of Agatha’s ice walls while lasering through a few of my minions and laughing off all their attacks.

Howl’s arrows, likewise, have been denting the surface of the mechanical Rin without managing to puncture. The other witch draws her swords instead and bounds over to the edge of the courtyard, then runs along the wall to get over the ice barrier and take a lunging jump at the robot.

The animatronic swings at her with its hand, but Howl flickers in and out of existence, reappearing just past the arc of the attack. She lands on the giant Rin’s arm and runs up it, leaps again, and jabs both blades into one of its glowing eyes before the laser can fire again. The glow coming off that eye intensifies and bursts, melting the side of the animatronic’s face and sending Howl falling away.

“Gee, Howl, we’d sure love to have you!” the robot says. “That’s the moxie we need here at Visage! What’s your price?”

Agatha hits it next. While Howl and my minions have been distracting the robot, Agatha’s been preparing one of her spells: a supercharged bolt of lightning that crashes into the machine and forks up and down its body, splitting apart into dozens and then hundreds of smaller strands of electricity that pass through the robot and ground out at its feet.

“N-n-nice shot, Agatha!” Rin praises, voice distorted and body twitching. “You’re getting a C-C-Christmas bonus for sure!”

Misshapen and groaning, the robot still manages to pummel its way through the ice wall and step through it—only to immediately slip and fall on the ice slick that Agatha weaves from the shards of the broken barrier. I direct my remaining cyberdemons to self-destruct on its leg so it’ll have a hard time getting up, then swoop over to Agatha.

“Another combo kill?” I offer. “For style points? I bet it’ll work on this thing better than it did on Delilah.”

Agatha grins. “Let’s do it.”

“Then I’ll keep it busy,” Howl says, appearing beside us in a flicker before leaping back toward the fallen giant. Despite her cool tone, the corners of her lips are curled in a half-smile.

The animatronic’s remaining eye flares up for a laser beam too slowly to stop Howl from gouging it out like the first, and this time Howl’s already moving again before the blast can hit her. While Howl dashes around hacking at the robot’s limbs whenever it tries to rise—dodging its lumbering counterattacks with ease—I pump flame into Agatha’s book. Is it overkill? Almost certainly; this boss is basically already beaten. But, just in case it has another trick up its sleeve, we’re going to blast those sleeves to smithereens.

And, hey, Venus seems like the type to appreciate a more stylish win.

“Uh oh!” the Rin bot says pleasantly. “Th-th-that looks like a big one! Redirecting power to shields. VisageCorp apologizes for any disruption in park service.”

The rest of the park dims—every visible light darkening, the background glow of light pollution muting—as a thin layer of golden energy appears around the oversized animatronic. Howl backs off, joining us by the doors to the Spire, as I finish empowering Agatha’s weapon—it takes less out of me this time, though I’m still left shivering—and she unleashes her ultimate attack on our opponent.

“With clear eyes, I see the path before me. Henceforth, I shall suffer no sacrifice. THREADS OF DESTINY!”

As before, Agatha’s glowing spellbook explodes into pages that unravel into threads which completely fill the area, every one of them passing through the form of the animatronic. A thousand swords of perfect white light appear midair and are flung, striking the golden shield, cracking it, and then piercing through to impale Yokohime Rin.

The swords fade, my flame rushes back to me, and the wreckage of the giant robot slumps in place. As the light leaves its eyes, the corporate mascot creaks out one final message, voice stuttering and warping.

“Th-th-this… pay-per-view event… d-d-dedicated to… the victims of the T-T-Texas Incident. Thoughts… and… p-p-prayers.”

There’s a beat of silence while I gather my strength. Then, with a grin at Howl and Agatha, I say, “Well, it’s what Texas would have wanted.”

Howl swats me on the head. Agatha looks mortified, but she’s also hiding a giggle behind her hand. “Awful,” the magical girl accuses me.

“I am a villain,” I tease. “It’s my job.”

Howl waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get back to the others and report.”

“Sooooo yeah! Felt like a freebie. We wanted something to fight after the weirdly chill theme park level, so Venus gave us a mascot to push around.” I chew on my lip and hum. “Whatever her overall strategy is, it seems like she really wants to, I don’t know, rebuild her position? We’re all super poisoned against her after that first trip, so this is her chance to reset that impression.”

We take turns explaining our adventure to Striga, who listens to everything with that customary mask of cold, expressionless patience. When I finish my part, Striga nods. “She’s cultivating experiences as a form of negotiation. The ‘threat’ wasn’t threatening, but its nature made it satisfying to destroy. Venus is trying to present herself as harmless at worst and desirable at best. Allowing her to continue that strategy may bait out some of her true intentions, but it goes without saying that you should not allow yourselves to grow complacent around her.”

“I doubt that’s a live worry,” Howl chuckles. “The old bitch isn’t exactly endearing herself to us with stunts like those.”

“You should worry,” Striga says sharply. “She will do everything in her power to lower your guard before she strikes. Practice vigilance. Do not assume safety to her tricks.”

Howl grumbles. Agatha swallows nervously, then nods and says, “Yes, ma’am.”

“I must also comment on your decision to engage the guardian alone,” the heroine continues, turning her icy gaze on me.

I sit up and lean forward, preening, eager for my beloved’s precious attentions. Is she going to praise me or scold me? The sugary sweetness of reward or the burning spice of punishment? Maintaining my loyalty is important to her goals, but she might consider it more valuable here to reinforce a sense of discipline.

“I commend your teamwork and your ultimate victory, and I recognize that this is not a military organization; many, many decisions will be made in the field by consensus agreement rather than the orders of your appointed team leader. However, the initiative you took in this instance has denied me the chance to observe the guardian’s actions up close, and it denied Ferromancer the chance to try and interfere with the machine’s systems. These may end up being small opportunity costs, but they are present, and they should have been considered.”

Ah, the fusion of flavors! What a perfect treat. I allow myself to shine with glee at her initial compliment, then temper that with pouting regret as she proceeds into her criticism. “Of course,” I say with contrition. “I’ll be more mindful of that in the future.” And I will, because it’s what she wants, and I’ll do anything for my beloved. Everything.

With that settled, we turn to other matters. The whole conspiracy is assembled in one of the Ossuary’s meeting rooms, a rather modern-looking space with cushy office chairs, a long table, and digital screens that Striga controls with a sleek laptop. We’re seated haphazardly, with Striga at the head of the table and everyone else to either side. The Morrigan is present through one of her skeletal servants, waiting patiently just beside Striga.

Herbalist, the newest addition to our conspiracy, clears her throat and stands to deliver her briefing. Vanguard’s top sorceress, and a visual mirror to the Coterie’s; dark-skinned instead of pale, dressed conservatively in flowing robes with a satchel around her waist. “I’ve been working on the issue of Jupiter. The seal that binds him is complex, but not, I believe, beyond our abilities in conjunction. The Morrigan has been of significant aid in devising our ‘patch’ to the seal, but to build something that can survive the fall of Venus or Mars, let alone both, we will need more talent brought on to the project. I would recommend Lilith, obviously. If their loyalties could be ascertained, Radiance and Memento both have a lot to offer the project.”

As Herbalist returns to her seat, the skeleton clatters its jaw and the Morrigan’s lyrical voice issues from it. “I am preparing the framework for a stable portal between the Ossuary and the outskirts of the pit, which will be a necessary step before any sorcery is woven. Once that is complete, we may consider reaching out to others.”

Howl points at Striga. “Hey, ‘Champion of Minerva,’ got any global connections we can tap for that? Seems like our highest priority.”

Strix Striga shakes her head. “They’re all working on their own projects, engaged in local counterparts to our own conflicts. From our perspective, this is obviously the most important front in the war, but that doesn’t mean those other fronts are completely unimportant—and there is always the chance that this is the decoy. Howl, how goes your hunt for Echidna?”

Echidna, Queen of Beasts, is one of the Catastrophes—the apocalyptically dangerous witches empowered by the Jovians to serve as conduits for Jupiter, the god of disaster. One of her monstrous creations attacked Forks back in October, but little of her has been seen since.

“She’s a wily bastard,” Howl admits, leaning back in her chair. “Very practiced at laying false trails. I’ve explored three of her hideouts in the past month, all of them filled with traps and monsters. I don’t think any of them were her real base.”

Striga taps a button on her laptop and the screens around the room light up with photographs of devastation and maps of North America. “Her behavior has been consistent with the model she displayed in her attacks on Ottawa, Atlanta, and Phoenix. In each case, she spent several months building up her resources—abducting locals to use as biological material for her familiars—with intermittent sacrifice of pawns to probe the city’s defenses or mislead her pursuers. We can expect her to continue entrenching and obfuscating at her current rate for another four months, then two months of acceleration before the attack. Due to the damage this will cause to the civilian population of the region, locating Echidna’s true lair before she has finished preparations is currently Vanguard’s highest priority. With our knowledge of the true purpose of the Catastrophes and their role in the Jovian agenda, defeating Echidna is also my highest priority. Unfortunately, Vanguard has failed to elicit cooperation from the Coterie.”

Agatha frowns. “Aren’t they required to assist, according to the compact?”

I wiggle my fingers in a so-so gesture. “Not exactly. Once the attack is imminent, yeah, but until then it’s up to them.”

Harlequin pops up with an elaborate bow. “Indeed, indeed! We are, alas, fraught with factions. Visage and Syndicate alike have been pressuring our people, rummaging rudely through our ranks with the real risk of recruitment. Pressure creates pressure, and so our eminent leaders have chosen to prioritize the goals of the organization over our truce with Vanguard. Until terms force their hand, expect only stone.”

Striga doesn’t betray her dissatisfaction outside an infinitesimal tightening of her mouth. “A predictable response. The Syndicate are preparing for a larger operation, but I am less certain of what Visage intends. This could be their typical growth mindset, but we understand very little of what Venus is planning.” Her attention flicks to me again and I glow with warmth, basking in her gaze. “Discerning her strategy is imperative. Foiling her plans may be vital to securing the Coterie’s support.”

“On that note,” Ferromancer drawls, “I’ll start setting up my engine inside the Spire. Access to the first two levels should give me a whole lot more data to work with than if we were still waiting on the second, so for my part I’ll thank our trigger-happy expedition.”

The witch winks at me, which draws a half second of lingering attention from Striga before the heroine claps her hands together and says, “Well, I believe that’s everything. You all know your responsibilities, and how to contact each other through the Ossuary. We’ll meet again in January. Thank you for your continued service to the salvation of our species.”

[commentary]

Blah blah survival of the species blah blah when are they gonna FUCK???? What am I paying for????

A special thank you to my Grandmaster-tier patrons, whose support has kept food on my table: Adrian CC, Ashlyn, CaosSorge, Crows Danger, Demi, Lirian, M, Mgbm, Mhai Wind, Morrigan, October, Paige Harvey, PR4v1 Samaratunga, and Selacanis. Wow that’s a lot of you! Thank you so much!

If you like this story and want to see more of it, please go to the RR page and leave a rating or review! Web serials live and die on audience support, and this one is no exception. The better the story does on RR, the more people click through and read, the more motivation I have (both on a mental health level and on an “able to pay rent” level) to keep writing and to write faster.

The next scheduled break week starts on the 7th of December. It’ll be another double length break as I work on my second writing project and some outline rewrites for TMGM.

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