Impulse, Tango, and Skizz watched the Crastle from the forest's edge, safely hidden behind the trees. Indistinct figures moved about Inside the Crastle, but the three swamp dwellers paid no attention to them. Tango turned to Impulse and spoke. "Hey, Impulse."

"Yeah?" Impulse replied, looking over at Tango.

"How do you feel about TNT?" Tango asked, smirking. Impulse began to smile.
"Do you have some?" Impulse asked eagerly.
Tango nodded, pulling a half stack out of his inventory. Impulse took it and tossed half to Skizz. "I'll distract them, you two plant the trap," Tango told them. Impulse nodded and crept along the edge of the woods, edging around to the side of the Crastle. Skizz followed and it was simply the two of them slinking silently through the forest.

Cleo looked out upon the plain to see a lone figure striding across it. She made her way down the stairs, ready to scare off whoever had come to visit. The figure made its way up to the other end of the drawbridge and Cleo could see that it was Tango. "What are you doing here?" she called.

Tango stuck his hands in his pockets very suspiciously and Cleo glared at him. "Nothing, just coming to see you," he said innocently.

"Cut the bullshit," Cleo told him bluntly. She had no time for Tango's games today, or any day really. She'd had no time for Ren, she had no time for his wannabe successor.

Tango gasped mock-offendedly, clearly putting on an act. "What do you mean? I'm not-"

Cleo interrupted him with an icy stare, unamused. "You're not fooling me."

Tango sighed, probably because Cleo wasn't falling for his tricks, and quickly dropped his unconvincing act. "Fine. Perhaps you would be willing to join us in our-"
"Cult? Mission? Whatever it is, I don't want in," Cleo informed him coldly. "Now get out of my Crastle."

"I'm not in your-" Tango began to protest, but Cleo unsheathed her sword and he scampered. Two more figures came crawling out of the hills to join him- Skizz and Impulse. Bdubs came up beside her to shoot after him, but they were too far away.

Bdubs turned to say something to Cleo, but she never heard what it was. At that moment, a rumbling shook the ground before them and Cleo had no time to react before the world shifted around them. Debris flew through the air and Cleo was knocked backwards with no warning, the world flashing black before Cleo awoke lying on the ground in the spawn forest.

Martyn wasn't sure how he had expected to die. He hadn't felt the cold touch of death yet, managing to survive as the last remaining green life. But he hadn't thought his first death would be so abrupt. The world had shifted in an instant, Martyn's life ripped away from him with nothing warning or time to react. One moment he was standing in the Crastle, the next he was engulfed in fire and heat, then the freezing cold of the Void, then the gentle breeze of the forest. In the distance, the Crastle burned. Cleo and Bdubs were instantly off, leaving everyone else behind to sprint through the forest towards their destroyed home. Martyn jumped at the sudden movement as Joel suddenly turned towards him, a worrying grin on his face. He wanted to trust Joel, but he simply couldn't, not after everything that had happened. Not after Ren.

Joel stalked towards him with an unnerving glint in his scarlet eyes and Martyn backed away slowly. Joel grinned menacingly and snarled. "Joel?" Martyn asked meekly.

Joel blinked a few times, as if he was fighting his own mind, then lunged. Martyn whirled around and dashed away as fast as he possibly could, but Joel was unhindered. He bounded after Martyn and in one swift grab of his hand, Martyn was on the ground. Joel stood over him, teeth bared and red eyes gleaming like they were made of blood, before he howled and his pack descended on Martyn, and he saw no more.

Joel crept through the land, his pack of wolves following him surprisingly stealthily. Dawn crept near and he slipped through the shadows across the open plains, making his way to the ruins of the Crastle. Cleo and Bdubs stood in the middle of it all, holding one another.

It would have been rather touching if Joel hadn't been consumed by bloodlust.

He stepped out and his dogs growled around him, the noises merging into one low, menacing rumble.

They turned too late, too slow to do anything as the wolves descended upon them and tore them to pieces. It was beautiful, in a horrific, twisted way.

There were only three others left. Joel was coming for them.