31

John looks up to see one of Jane’s recon ships flying overhead. Aside from the encroaching fleet, the blue sky is seamless and calm. The hole that Vriska came through has already sealed up.

Vriska releases her vice grip on John’s arms so that she can cradle her head between her hands.

Vriska gestures wordlessly at John’s entire body. Then she leans in closer to study his face, squinting with suspicion.

Vriska tries to wipe the blood off her face, and ends up with nothing but messier hands and blood streaking down to her neck.

John raises his eyebrow, a bit confused about why she wouldn’t understand. His face lights up when he realizes his faulty assumption.

Vriska is interrupted by her own blood, which she has now begun to cough up.

Before she has time to verbally reject, John starts flying her away from the imminent battlefield to somewhere safer.

As Vriska kicks and screams, trying to dismount about fifty-eight feet and eleven inches in the air, John decides he needs to get a better grip and heads back to the ground. He lands in a clearing in the woods, and notices an unexpected woodchipper nearby. This is particularly odd, as the post-scarcity society on Earth C makes gathering materials and resources such as these unnecessary. It’s likely just for recreational purposes, John gathers.

She coughs a bit more. Suddenly the clearing is covered in shadow, there’s an airship above.

Before they can get going, a loud CLUNK is heard from the recreational woodchipper. Both turn their heads, eyes widening when they notice something… moving, trying to escape the metal contraption. Two long, slender apendages rise above the mouth of the machine, slowly revealing themselves to be attached to a face obscured by the darkness.

The ragged figure comes into view, head to torso in purple, make-up dried up and smeared across his face. He looks like he just ate a load of figurative shit.