Phatagin! Bridget cried as she buzzed towards the downed pangolin who was lying on the ground just a few steps short of the portal into the Lippity Dungeon.

  “Phatagin!” she tried again, this time out loud, after receiving no response from her Party member. Hoping that the pangolin had merely fallen unconscious, the mosquito rushed back to assist Charlemagne, if she could.

  The rooster was still in bad shape. He had suffered deep puncture wounds that had broken through his Ironskin-reinforced feathers and punched through bone. Although the bites had largely clotted due to Charlemagne’s immense healing factor, blood still oozed from the mutilated stumps where his wing and part of his leg had been ripped off. And those were the injuries that Bridget could see. What she didn’t realize was that Charlemagne had also been injected with a venom that made the Assassinadder’s toxin feel like a bee sting. Had Charlemagne not experienced a shocking number of bites from the monstrous snakes, he would have already expired. Thankfully, the incorporation of the “toxic” energy type into his body composition had saved him, as he had previously tempered his body using the Assassinadder's venom in N'dali.

  The rooster’s Ember Core was also working overtime in the background to restore Charlemagne’s body. The massive amounts of mana circulating through the rooster’s system were ideal for both purging the remaining venom as well as repairing the extensive damage that the toxins had done to Charlemagne’s system. The fire-aspected mana from the Core was also preventing him from slipping into hypothermia due to the massive loss of warm blood.

  But despite the warmth from the Ember Core preventing the rooster from completely entering the “lethal triad” of hypothermia, acidosis, and coagulopathy, he was still experiencing two of the three, enough to ensure a constant downward spiral. Despite its enormous recuperative powers, the rooster’s body was degenerating just a tiny bit faster than it was being repaired. Charlemagne had lost too much blood, and what was left had been largely diverted in an attempt to keep his vital organs from failing. Most of his cells had been forced to shift to anaerobic metabolism, causing them to swell in volume even as membranes failed. The rupture of cell membranes released inflammatory mediators throughout the bloodstream, worsening the situation. In short, Charlemagne was slowly dying.

  But all Bridget could see was that the rooster had largely stopped bleeding, which she took as a good sign as she flew to his aid. Despite her natural resistance, she was starting to feel the effects of being exposed to high levels of radiation, as the entrance to the Lippity Dungeon was one of the main sources of the miasma that rendered the ruined city of Porto Novo inhospitable to most lifeforms.

  Still, she gamely pushed through her disorientation and landed on an exposed patch of skin, planning to use her Skills to inject life-giving blood directly in the rooster’s bloodstream. She prepared her proboscis by strengthening and enlarging it. Rearing back a bit, she plunged the modified mouthpiece straight into the rooster, searching for a blood vessel that wasn’t already collapsed.

  After a few dozen tries, she realized that she wasn’t likely to find one.

  But that wasn’t the worst of Bridget’s issues. Her disorientation had reached the point where she wasn’t sure which way to stab. Even her sharp blood sense was getting confused, as she had been sure that she had targeted the largest concentrations of hemoglobin that she could reach, but had come up empty each time. In fact, she was certain that something was going wrong with her blood sense, because now she was detecting blood everywhere: on and inside Charlemagne, on the ground, and even in the air all around her.

  Something was seriously wrong.

  As Bridget awkwardly tried to reposition herself, dragging her enlarged proboscis across the rooster’s body, she suddenly felt a sharp pain deep inside her abdomen. A swirling mass of blood that she didn’t recall drinking had filled the mosquito’s internal organs. And it wanted out.

  Barely realizing what she was doing, Bridget pierced Charlemagne’s skin once again and began to regurgitate the substance into the rooster’s ruined body. But what came out wasn’t blood. It was a concentrated mass of the energy that infused the entire area…the energy that Phatagin had referred to as “radiation”. Somehow, she was taking the radiation that her body had absorbed and was pushing it into Charlemagne. The process was incredibly taxing, but expelling the substance brought a relief that was difficult to put into words. The System then saw fit to recognize her efforts.

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  With the System’s official recognition of her newfound ability, Bridget continued to push the energy out of her body and into Charlemagne’s. With a bit of effort, she was able to differentiate the blood sluggishly moving through the rooster’s body from the faster circulating radiation. As the radiation moved through the center of the rooster’s chest, where his Ember Core was located, it seemed to provide some sort of benefit. At least, that’s what it looked like to Bridget. Encouraged, she continued pushing until her tiny body was largely radiation-free.

  The rooster stirred.

  Boss, Bridget called, hoping to see Charlemagne get up and protect her from whatever group decided to attack them next. Not far away, the canine pack had charged into the mass of skeletal monsters and was swiftly tearing its way through them. It was an ideal matchup for the dogs, which were nimble enough to avoid the slashing claws of the monsters but packed enough jaw strength to crush bone when they struck. It was only a matter of time before they’d emerge victorious, and Bridget wasn’t sure she could take on two of them at a time, much less all eight.

  “Come on, boss,” she coaxed out loud, fighting back the urge to leave her Party mates to their fate. Charlemagne’s body twitched again, but he remained unconscious. Phatagin looked completely comatose, and Bridget was worried that he would not recover even if the canines didn’t get him. The pangolin, being larger, must have taken on more radiation than she had. The realization gave the mosquito an idea.

  Realizing that there was no time to waste, Bridget raced over to Phatagin’s prone form and began to drain him. His body began to deflate as the Champion’s blood flowed into her. But, instead of continuing to suck out the pangolin’s blood, Bridget used her new skill to remove the radiation from the life-giving fluid before injecting it back into his body.

  I can’t believe I’m cleaning his blood out for him, she grumbled to herself. Her annoyance was short-lived however. For one thing, she didn’t have time to waste on such thoughts. But, more important, even the small amount of blood that she reserved gave her a boost.

  The System’s notification was welcome, if only for the slight increase to speed that the extra attributes would grant. Bridget bolted over to Charlemagne and injected all of the radiation that she could into the rooster’s body.

  This time, Charlemagne bawked softly.

  A howl of victory caused the mosquito’s blood to run cold as she raced back once more and took on a second load of radiation. The sound of frenzied barks and whines almost caused her to fall from the sky in a panic, but she managed to hold herself together and land on the rooster’s still prone form.

  This time, she enlarged her proboscis as much as she could, forming a long but still very thin tube that was an order of magnitude longer than she was. Plunging into the rooster’s flesh as deeply as she could, she injected the dose of radiation as close to Charlemagne’s Core as she could.

  With a gasp, the rooster leaped to his feet.

  Charlemagne had been enjoying a very nice dream involving a field of corn and an entire flock of hens when a sudden twist turned the slumbering rooster’s fantasy into a nightmare of barks, growls, and pain. He was plunged back into the dreamless void of deep sleep as his body burned from within.

  When he awoke, the rooster felt terrible. His entire body ached as if he fought a dozen battles, while his innards felt like he had eaten rotten food and was only now suffering the consequences.

  Bawk, he asked his Party members, remembering that they were connected through the Party chat feature.

  Charlemagne! Bridget practically screamed. You’re alive! We gotta get into the Dungeon!

  The rooster puffed himself up, fully planning on denouncing the mosquito’s cowardly suggestion, when he realized something very important. He was missing a wing and a foot. He wasn’t going to be able fight very effectively without them, not without time to charge up his signature mana ball attack.

  Bawk? He asked.

  Not a dream. Come on! Grab Phatagin and get to the portal! Bridget yelled. Come on!

  Noticing for the first time the barks, growls, and whines that were coming closer, the rooster sprang into action. He hobbled forward, bending over briefly to snatch up the pangolin’s unconscious form in his beak, before racing toward the portal that would allow his Party to enter the Lippity Dungeon.

  He hopped through the open portal, stumbling as he landed on his one good foot into a red brick room that was identical to the one he and Bridget had encountered at the entrance to the Kine Dungeon.

  The Squiggles noticed that he had entered the Dungeon.

  There was a short delay as the rooster pondered his options. Now that they had an additional Party member, they would be able to fight more effectively. Charlemagne had seen how much stronger a group of humans were when they worked together, and he was sure that he and the two other Champions could do even better.

  “Bawk,” he announced.

  There was another pause, as if the squiggles were conferring among themselves as to whether or not they would grant the rooster’s request.

  Then a new message appeared.