The Mercenaries of Mayhem set out at dawn.
The sun was still low, casting long shadows across Border Town's gate as the group made their final checks. Packs were strapped, weapons were cleaned, and spirits were… mostly intact.
Anna stood by the mansion steps, arms folded, red eyes watching them leave.
"I'll keep the place intact," she said coolly.
"You better," Bob replied, half-joking.
The doll, strapped to Bob's belt like a mildly cursed charm, lifted a hand. "Try not to burn the library."
"No promises," Anna replied, then—rarely—gave him a nod.
The doll smirked.
As they walked out of earshot, Bob leaned in and whispered, keeping his voice low so Kain wouldn't hear.
"Hey… you and Anna have gotten kinda close the past few days."
The doll blinked. "So?"
Bob squinted. "She barely talks to people. She's all proud and aloof and intimidating. But with you, she's… normal. You're not afraid of her?"
The doll chuckled softly. "In my time, dragons weren't rare. They walked among humans often—sometimes in human form, sometimes not. It was more common than you'd think."
Bob blinked. "So she doesn't scare you?"
"Not particularly."
Bob nodded slowly. "Alright. But how'd you get her to talk to you?"
The doll paused, as if reflecting. "Maybe it's because I know how dragons think. I've spoken to many. Their minds are long, slow-burning—like time itself speaks in their heads. Most people bore them."
He glanced back toward the mansion, barely visible behind the morning mist.
"She probably speaks to me because, for her, I feel like someone she remembers."
Bob blinked again. "…That's kinda poetic."
"I'm a magic doll, Bob. I contain multitudes."
On the road, Kain walked beside Derek, eyes thoughtful.
"Your mage friend," he said, glancing back toward the mansion, "Anna."
Derek kept his face neutral. "Yeah?"
"She's powerful. Really powerful. Even I can't get a read on her magical flow. It's… dense. Shaped. Too well-contained."
Kain frowned. "Be careful. That much restraint usually means two things: they've trained for decades—or they're not what they seem."
Bam raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying she might not even be human."
The group froze.
Then nodded slowly.
No one laughed.
But it took everything not to.
Kain continued, oblivious. "Also… where's Jim?"
He looked around. "I meant to ask back in the wasteland but didn't get the chance."
Bob scratched his head. "He left after the dragon battle...saying he'd come back stronger."
Bam added, "We don't know where he went. He didn't say."
Kain nodded solemnly. "Huh. He always struck me as too stubborn to stay gone."
Derek glanced at the sky. "He'll be back."
And with that, they pressed forward.
By afternoon, the group reached the village Kain had spoken of.
It was unsettling.
Too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet—but the wrong kind. The kind that made you check over your shoulder twice and whisper even when no one was around.
Chickens wandered freely through streets.
Cattle milled in the fields, unattended, chewing slowly as though they too had given up trying.
Tools lay where they'd been dropped—plows in fields, fishing rods in streams, laundry halfway hung and left to dry in the sun.
People were sprawled on porches, hammocks, benches—anywhere they could rest. Faces blank. Some snoring. Some blinking at the sky with glazed eyes.
One man was trying to pour tea but kept missing the cup. He didn't seem to care.
Bob waved a hand. "Uh. Hello?"
A woman blinked at him.
Then shrugged and went back to staring at a beetle crawling across her foot.
"This is… creepy," Marcus muttered.
"Cursed, even," Bam added.
"Sloth," the doll whispered from Bob's belt. "It's here. Somewhere."
They finally made their way to a building labeled Village Hall, though half the sign had fallen off.
Inside, they found the village head—a plump man slouched so deep in his chair it was a miracle he hadn't sunk through the floor.
"Welcome…" he said slowly. "You're… visitors? Or mercenaries? Or…"
"We're here about the abnormal behavior," Derek said.
"Ohhh," the man said, like remembering something from another life. "Right. Everyone's been… so relaxed lately."
"Why?" Marcus asked.
The village head blinked. "No idea. Just feels good."
They pressed him with more questions.
But got nothing useful.
Only sighs. Shrugs. And one detailed story about the joys of napping under a tree during windless days.
As they left the office, the doll whispered, "Sloth is here. But it's hiding deep."
Derek looked at the villagers sprawled across fields like discarded dolls.
"Then we drag it out."