Atlas knew Ashe was here. He could see her white jacket abandoned beside his manager. She wouldn't have left it there had she or Grayson been able to pull it off.

He couldn't let himself get stuck beside Arrone!

But the metal wouldn't budge beneath his kicks, not that he expected it to. It was yet another trick, another thing that would leave Chaos hissing in his face. He didn't want to let his mother hear that Dizzee was somewhere nearby, somehow hidden from the hounds.

When the dogs sprinted by, his mother's attention drawn to the far side of the cavern chamber, Atlas finally figured out what he was supposed to do. The only way he would be dropped was if his chaos mother lost control over her sandalwood chains.

But what was he supposed to do after?

He didn't stray on the thought as long as he should.

They stood at the edge of the limestone floor, where it disappeared beneath a dark, green glittering lake. His mother was the closest to it. And he knew what happened when one fell into lakes in this world.

Atlas knew it was the right time to bring Dizzee back into the action. "Dizzee!" he yelled. He tried to motion toward his mother, and could only hope that the firefighter understood it.

He did.

She whipped around at his shout, only to get a glimpse of an ex-track runner sprinting toward her. He grasped her around the waist and before she or Cerberus could react, he shoved her into the depths.

Her body didn't make a sound as it disappeared under the surface, the water just as endless and textureless as Atlas could remember. There were no bubbles or splashes. Only the sound of breaking chains as the sandalwood disappeared.

Atlas crashed to the ground with a shout, pain lancing up through his ankle and his ribs. He sucked in a pained breath as he rolled out of the way of Cerberus' feet.

"Sorry, ma'am." He heard Dizzee's whisper even through the clanging of metal as the statue beast turned around.

"Thank you," Atlas gasped, coming to a stand beside his rescuer.

Dizzee clapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry 'bout your mom."

They didn't have time to say anything else, for three reasons. The main one loomed over them in its bipedal form, the rust glinting an ugly green in the light casting over the lake.

Now what were they supposed to do? And before Chaos just replaced his mother with another one of his strange creations.

Ashe couldn't do it anymore.

She clung to her stalagmite, her lungs burning with the exertion and terror, blood trickling down her arms. They weren't going to make it.

"Come on," Grayson urged her, helping her across. She barely held her footing on the slime, forced to clutch to his arm to keep from falling into the lake. She pressed her forehead against the wall, sucking in rough breaths, trying to find the constitution to continue on.

They were closer, now. But the dogs were nearly on top of them. The lead was stopped right outside of the first stalagmite by now, pausing briefly as it debated how to go further. She watched it back up and ram its unfeeling shoulder against the limestone. The thin rock cracked and busted under its weight, dropping into the water without a sound, like the rock may as well have been thin clay, and the lake air.

Grayson cursed. He squeezed onto the ledge beside her. "Grab around my neck."

She didn't have the energy or strength to resist him. She did as told.

This was the only way they were going to make it, she knew. And she felt terrible. Her confidence that they could make it had been tarnished.

Ashe watched over his shoulder with dread. The gap between them and the dogs was shrinking. The splintering of stone and screech of metal echoed through the chamber.

Hurry, she urged him. She tried not to choke him with her weight, all her energy forced to keep her legs from getting in the way of crossing over the teeth.

The dogs were nearly on top of them by the time she caught her breath.

Grayson dived over the last stalagmite in their way, dashing into the darkness of the rock hole as quick as he could with his human backpack, the hounds on their heels. She released her grip and stumbled back behind him as he turned to face them.

The hole was a tunnel. It went forward maybe twenty feet before deep diving down like a sinkhole. Ashe couldn't see the bottom.

If they fell in that, they wouldn't make it out.

As if she needed more stakes!

The lead iron dog jumped through first.

Grayson was ready for it. His boot slammed into the beast's chest, sending it sliding back and over the drop. It disappeared into the glittering water without a sound.

~

Atlas dived out of the way of Cerberus' arm. He wasn't a fighter. If anything, this world of Chaos' only made that more apparent. But despite that, he was beginning to have another idea on what to do. He just hoped he wouldn't hurt Arrone in the process!

Or fall into the lake himself.

That was a sobering thought that kept him careful to stay by the exit.

He almost wanted to just run away. But he wasn't going to do that again. Not when they were almost at their goal. Not when it would mean leaving more people behind.

Now he just needed to figure out how to get a massive metal creature to back up against the skin. Surely it would get stuck there, just as everything else had, right?

He quickly realized he wouldn't be able to do that if he continued to play it safe with his back to the exit. He was just a small thing in comparison to the iron bulk that was Cerberus. He couldn't push it back. The only way to get the beast to turn around, was to get behind it, and hope he didn't get stuck to the skin himself.

Atlas limp-ran to the side, grasping onto the limestone walls when the floor shook beneath him under the sculpture's weight. He inched out of its line of sight, if it even had one. "Dizzee!"

The firefighter was backing up into the tunnel now, and Cerberus followed after him.

"This way," he shouted. He was sure by this point, the man was sick of being bossed around by someone who had no clue what they were doing. But he obliged. Or, tried. Cerberus' clawed arm shot forward and struck home. It snatched Dizzee around the leg, retracting into its base and dragging the shouting firefighter along with it.

"Atlas! Why'd I help you! Gah." He pulled against the claws, but nothing happened, his braided dreads sweeping along the ground as the beast turned once more.

Well, now Atlas didn't have to worry about synchronizing something. He frantically looked back and forth between it and the skin wall. Somehow, he had to dive at the right time to get Cerberus' claw to stick, and for it to retract itself face first into the sticky web.

He was starting to wish he had kept up with whatever athleticism he had leaving high school, because right now, it felt almost impossible. He hadn't been able to do it in the last multiple times he stood against it.

He inched closer to it, until he stood directly in front, just off-center from his manager.

Atlas counted the seconds in his head as Cerberus turned to face him. He held his breath. The beast's second claw shot out, and Atlas leapt to the side, folding his arms in front of his face to keep from slamming face-first into the side of the wall.

Dizzee shouted as the beast slammed into the skin, taking the firefighter with it. His shoulder slammed into the mass of sticky skin, his hair tangling in it as well.

Atlas stopped, placing his hands on his knees.

He almost couldn't believe it worked.

"Darn it, Atlas." Dizzee tugged at his hair, still upside down. None of it wanted to come loose.

Cerberus squirmed, its metal pressing heavily against the side of Arrone's face. While the outcome wasn't pretty, or ideal, at least Atlas had a short moment to breathe and recollect.

"I'm sorry! I'll figure out how to get you out of there. I promise!"

He knew that was a shallow promise, watching as even the hulking beast of metal couldn't escape from the thick of the web.

How was he supposed to rescue both of them? And even worse, how was he supposed to do it without also freeing Cerberus?

~

The other two hounds weren't as reckless after watching the fate of their third. They prowled around the edge of the hole, their heads low and front legs bent. They were alert.

Grayson breathed hard, tense and cautious. He didn't chase after them.

Ashe continued to stay behind him. Her gaze flitted past them just in time to see Atlas backing up from the leading guardian, now completely stuck.

The mother had yet to return from the lake. Chaos hadn't spoken a word.

Things were looking alright.

The fact that he had managed to win gave her just the tiniest flicker of hope. But their situation was different. Grayson didn't have anything to take advantage of. And Ashe was too tired to do anything.

Besides, anything could change at any time.

She leaned against the wall, trying to regain her breath and ignore the discomfort that was her arms. She didn't turn her gaze away from Grayson, knowing she'd need to get up and move the moment something changed, the moment the hounds attacked.

That's when she felt it. The buzz that ignited her world back in the tunnel, back when Chaos had infiltrated her mind.

She froze.

This wasn't good.

Ashe shook her head, rubbing her hands down her face. She wouldn't let the being get inside her mind again. She wouldn't endure that again!

Blood and adrenaline pounded in her ears as she tried to focus. She tried to find the point of entry, where the buzzing was the strongest. She breathed, picturing herself wandering around her own brain, like she was inside herself, and not inside another realm. Like she could see hands poking around like the incense that engulfed Atlas' mother.

She could have just been tired. The buzzing could have just been in her head, her paranoia catching up to her now that she was backed into a corner. It could have been just like the walls expanding backward, forever out of reach, meant to discourage her, meant to make her be reckless. It could have been an illusion.

When squeezed her eyes shut, she tugged at those hands, when she pressed and willed the buzzing to vanish, to go somewhere else... it didn't work.

Ants began crawling up and down her arms, wiggling into the green and red scabs. Pain and discomfort bloomed beneath her skin.

She cried out, sinking to her knees, hugging her arms to her chest.

"Ashe!"

Grayson turned around just long enough for the hounds to find the right moment to pounce. He went down in a tangle of limbs and rusted scrap metal. Clanging rippled through the air like her little brother was slamming pans again.

The buzzing drowned it out.

It was like she stood inside an old satellite TV, stuck between channels, white static blazing between her ears. Like she could just barely hear snippets from the actors' dialogue. The banging of an MRI in the background. An occasional cry. A touch like she leaned against the window, overlooking the bright snow around her fathers' farm, a touch of breath against her skin like fog against a window. It was cooling, but not enough to draw her forward, and not enough to stop the noise.

The scent of salt lingered around her. She could feel it burning through her skin, chasing after the ants that crawled around her veins now, like a mini army racing toward her heart.

And all the while, she continued trying.

Ashe walked about her own mind. She was a white shape in darkness, looking for more of those incense hands that were driving her insane.

There was no air pressure along her skin as she searched, gaze flitting back and forth. The beat of hundreds of little ant legs sounded everywhere, like if she stood in place too long, she might meet them.

She had to think of something to keep her grounded there. It was that same, hopeful sentiment that she and Atlas had come up with. Chaos couldn't do this to everyone. If he could, he would have done it. So even if she couldn't find the hands, whatever source leaving her incapacitated, then at least her struggle was easing the burden on everyone else. And that made it bearable.

If only they knew for sure that this also meant he couldn't create more antagonists in his world. Could he still save the mother? Make a new one?

She hoped not.

~

Ashe found it.

Her inner self would have gasped if it could. The darkness around her was welcome. If she focused on it, she could ignore the burn running down her arms and the occasional brush of something against her skin.

She stepped closer to it.

The shape didn't tower, or scream or squirm. It wasn't a quilt of hands and arms that reached in from the outside. It flowed like incense, but shimmered like the oil slick. As if everything and anything that entered or left the world had to go through it first, even if they wanted to leave the mind they were trapped within.

She stopped just a few feet away. Although chaos still surrounded her, she didn't feel urgent to approach it anymore.

She recognized the feeling instantly. The siren call. But this one was slightly different. It had a different tune, a different voice. One that made her want to turn away, rather than come forward in a dull stupor.

Sounds came from it. The intense buzzing was still around her, but she could hear the outside beyond it now. She could hear Atlas and Grayson's voices. There was a high pitched scream, and somehow, she knew it wasn't from herself. A breeze came from it, too, trying to wipe away her inner self, deposit her somewhere else like sand.

Ashe tried to mentally pinch herself. But how did one even do that?

Her senses flickered in and out as she tried. Heartbeats of pain and ants flashed through her nerves, the buzz intensified around her until she could feel her own fingers digging into her ears. And then it was gone. Then it was back.

She squirmed in her binds until her white form flashed back into her mind, under her control again.

The siren call faded as she stepped closer once more. She didn't feel the soothing sense that nothing was wrong anymore. Though, the mental pinch wasn't pleasant.

She had a decision to make. Sit there, holding Chaos to this world, making him unable to hurt anyone else until he realized he wasn't helping himself by keeping her pinned. Sit there, and have to go through that splitting experience of existing everywhere at once until she knew, somehow, that they were in the clear. Or leave, and try to assist in any way that her broken body could.

It wasn't a hard decision. She hadn't been of any help once it came down to them having to run. She didn't know what more they had to run from, but she'd sit, and with each pinch, she'd have to remember carefully what was going on outside of her imprisoned mind.

~

Even after Grayson brought Ashe and reconvened with Atlas, his uniform ripped around his sides where the iron dogs had almost bested him, she hadn't returned to normal. Her face was twisted, fingers digging into her ears so tightly the fingernails drew blood.

Atlas couldn't get himself to look at her. The firefighter gently placed her against the wall and rubbed at his shoulders with a grimace on his face.

Dizzee hadn't given up struggling against the sticky skin. He clutched onto the struggling beasts' claw, trying to keep his head lifted so the blood didn't swell his brain. But it was hard, with how his dreads strained against his scalp and his uniform choked him.

This situation seemed impossible. And Atlas knew he wasn't going to have time to figure it out before something else happened.

"We couldn't figure out how to get them freed," Grayson offered. "The slime won't help. Ashe suggested using the shears from our first-aid kits, but I don't imagine that would work either."

"Oh, just great." Dizzee kicked at Cerberus for added emphasis. The sound clanged, echoing throughout the cavern.

"I think Dizzee would be easiest to free. If we find the shears, we could cut his hair and unclothe him."

"Hell no! I'm keeping my dreads. Those have stories in 'em, you know!"

Grayson frowned. "Not when you're dead."

Atlas was lost. And Chaos knew this. The voice didn't even bother echoing through the chambers to laugh at their struggles. Or maybe they had been right. And he could only maintain one thing at a time.

He glanced at Ashe.

He hated saying it, but her suffering might be giving them time. He said so aloud, too. Both of the firefighters turned toward him.

"You mentioned that," Grayson said.

"So we have until demon lady comes back."

"Yeah." Atlas wished he knew something to suggest.

"Well, there aren't any answers here," Grayson continued. "Do you think you're okay to search for something on your own?"

He didn't have an answer for that, either. He could be? He'd been on his own for so long now. But before, he didn't have possibly broken ribs and a sprained ankle that wouldn't heal in only a few minutes. And all the movement from being chased around like flies by Cerberus didn't help, either. The pain continued to pulse in his lower chest. "Honestly, I don't even know what to look for."

"You've figured everything else out so far. The thinking-through plans thing isn't my strength." Grayson shrugged. "But I can pull you out of something if you get stuck."

That wasn't really what he wanted to hear, but he didn't have much of a choice. It wasn't like he'd be any helpful staying for Ashe and Dizzee. He may as well split up, right? But he was so sick of returning to square one!

Dizzee shouted as Cerberus suddenly released him from his claws, his back slamming onto the limestone.

Atlas quickly retreated as the beast suddenly started squirming with intense vigor. Its rusted metal jabbed into Arrone's sides and nearly trampled over the fire fighter as he scrambled backwards, still stuck to the wall by his dreads.

He watched with a sense of intimidation as Cerberus seemed to come to life after long minutes of shock. Its metal tore into the skin fibres. They stretched and whined trying to hold it in place like sheets of plastic.

Yeah, shears definitely weren't going to work, but they didn't need them.

Twisted metal screeched, and then broke loose. The beast's claws remained stuck in the further depths of the skin, the arms ripping off, shards of rust and fibres of skin flinging into the air. The broken adhesive mass fizzled like burning paper and vanished before it hit the floor. And loose came Arrone and Dizzee. Atlas' manager fell limp to the floor, still unconscious, and Dizzee scrambled back with wide eyes, fingers pressed into his scalp.

Once again, they were face to face with something they could not fight, only this time, with two unconscious passengers.

At least now, Cerberus couldn't project out its claws to capture them.

"Ashe, snap out of it," Atlas begged, running back to her side. Cerberus zoomed in on him, as if the two firefighters weren't worth its time. Of course it was like that. For some reason, Chaos had an issue with him. He shook her frantically. There was no way he could pick her small frame up and run before he lost the race.

The ignorance gave Dizzee and Grayson a chance to get to Arrone, grabbing his limp form around the shoulders and hauling him upright. Dizzee gave him a little slap, and that was all Atlas saw before the beast charged after him, dropping down into the rare quadruped form he hadn't seen since their first encounter.

Atlas could do nothing but sprint away, leaving Ashe against the limestone wall. He knew from inside the Eye that even though he was slow, he could still outrun the hulking metal, or rather, he used to. His ankle throbbed with every rapid step as he took off back down toward the nose jail. It was quickly apparent that it wouldn't be the same this time.

The limestone turned into the skin the moment the beast caught up to him.

And that probably saved his life.

Both Cerberus and Atlas slid on the suddenly smooth ground like it was ice. The beast crashed into the wall. Atlas barely managed to break his slide with his hands and knees, digging his fingers as deep into the soft skin as he could. He used the traction to propel himself back up, and continue forward, adrenaline replacing the ache in his body.

The white smoke had dissipated. His eyes didn't burn as he made his way, finally finding himself in front of the hair cell bar they bent outward. He paused, gasping. Heavy drums could be heard in the near distance. No doubt it had taken a while for Cerberus to get back to its feet.

If he kept going, he'd eventually find himself in the iridescent middle realm between Chaos and Alaska. With how impossible it was to find one's way out of it—at least without the trick Atlas had learned—he hoped that the beast could get lost without his chaos mother's leash to guide it out. And then he could go back to help the others.

Or, ideally, by then Arrone will have awoken, and Atlas could come back out to guide them.

He decided that was his best option. He forced himself to at least jog the last of the distance, waiting until the glimmer overtook him. The movies were clear in the sky, and Atlas could see far beyond the nose to the slope of the mouth. Images of grandma Georgie and his father flashed above in grayscale.

He refused to look, continuing to move forward. Hopefully the smoke hadn't been the reason he got into that middle realm in the first place!

Thankfully, his instinct had been right. As he reached the exit, just two steps before he stepped out into the gray light, it all vanished.

The landscape vanished, replaced by the white smoke that still existed here. He pressed forward. The oil slick colors briefly roved in the air from time to time, but for the most part were hidden from view. He knew at this point, he had outran Cerberus, Chaos couldn't hurt him, and his exit was so close. It took all of his willpower to not vanish himself, leaving the firefighters behind once more, and climbing out of the crevice tunnel to the freedom that was aboveground Alaska.

He reigned that desire inward.

Atlas wasn't going to do that again.

He could still feel the guilt of when he had done it the first time, and he realized now, it wasn't worth living with it for the rest of his life. Especially if it meant he was the only one who survived.

Atlas planted his feet and turned to face the direction he came, where Cerberus would no doubt follow after him in only a few moments. His breaths filled the air with the only sound. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd keep his orientation once he led Cerberus into the depths to never make it out again.

It was the first time he realized that if he followed through with this, he might be risking himself, too, and for nothing at that, because the others wouldn't know how to get out without him.

The thought made his eyes burn and the passing time feel like years. His heart raced in his chest. His lungs ached with each breath.

But then Cerberus showed its face, the white fog parting away from its massive presence, and Atlas knew there was no going back from this.

He sucked down a heavy breath, captured Cerberus' attention, and once more started to run. He tried to count his footsteps, eyes on the ground, making sure to the best of his ability that he was running in a straight line that he could follow back. But that wasn't a guarantee.

It was going to be painfully hard finding the magic glimmer again, especially since it quickly disappeared as he dived further into the smoke.

He just hoped it would be worth it.

He didn't know how long he had to run before he was safe. Ten turns maybe? Right, right, left, straight for a while, and repeat. After multiple circles and jagge staircase shaped turns, he hoped it was good enough. He tried to keep the image clear in his mind, placing all of his focus to make sure each turn had the same amount of footsteps. He had to close his eyes. He could imagine the lines like gold in his mindscape and he used them to beeline back to his original position at a stark diagonal that he could only hope was accurate.

It had to be, he told himself.

Eventually, his step count reached zero.

Atlas opened his eyes.

He should be back at the start, right?

There were no glimmering lights in the air around him. The fog was especially thick without Cerberus near, but that shouldn't have mattered. He had seen them before, back before the metal beast had followed him inside.

He slowed to a stop, gasping for air. His stomach knotted and squirmed inside him until he had to press his hand tight against it, fighting the urge to throw up from the blaring pain in his ribs and the exertion. Black spots swarmed in his vision and sweat ran down his face.

His plan didn't work.

His breaths turned into hiccups.

It didn't work.

The panic pulled back like the moments before a tidal wave. He could feel the oncoming pressure building inside, ready to sweep him away. A hot tingling rushed through his extremities as he stood there, the blood returning to his fingers and knees.

He was lost.