A second thought echoed through the back of my mind, a belated realization that sent a shiver down my spine. They’re more like mutants than natural creatures. There’s more than one. Distinctly unhappy with that apparent reality, I pressed my lips together as I sat on the nearest rock, trying to avoid giving voice to my irritation as I opened the message book to find letters streaming across the page.

  SUCCESS! WE HAVE COFFEE! Okay, so, full disclosure, we only kinda have coffee. It’s burnt-tire bullshit fit only for Starbucks… but 1>0, right? I never thought I’d be happy with ruined coffee, but at least I didn’t pay fifteen bucks for it! Hopefully by the time you get back, we’ll have dialed things in a bit better.

  That said, there might be a problem. Not with the roasting process in specific, but the coffee itself. Not sure how to describe it, but it doesn’t quite taste the same. Not unpleasant, just different. Might be because I burnt the hell out of it, not sure, but what I do know is that when I went to practice spellcraft after that first cup, shit was just easier. A lot easier. I tired out faster, but I didn’t feel like I was trying to push rope uphill the whole time. I think the mana affecting properties of the fruit are still present in the beans I ground, but it is way, way too early to make any sort of reasonable claims to that. Either way, more science is required.

  I decided to take advantage when Jenna’s handwriting paused and set pen to paper. Fancy that, I sit down to take a break, and here you are.

  Sam! I don’t know why, I’ve been really worried about you all day. It got worse a little bit ago, so I kinda cut class to work off my nerves.

  So, manga and your Hitachi? I smirked, imagining Jenna’s face going beet red, either from embarrassment or simply fuming at the implication.

  Just the manga. It’s not like we have 120v wall outlets here, bro.

  I squinted at the page and frowned. Wait, you really have a Hitachi with you?

  Do you step out the door without your concealed carry? I think not. Really wishing my standards were lower, then I might actually have something battery operated. Then again, since we can’t charge batteries or buy new ones, that’s just slow-motion disappointment squared.

  I frowned even harder. I’m not having this conversation with you, Jenna.

  Au contraire, good sir, you are already having this conversation with me, and the J-train has no brakes. It’s not like I’m giving you a play-by-play. Dear Penthouse forums—

  I pressed extra hard on the pen. Jenna, don’t you even dare.

  Relax, just messin’ with you. Seriously, the look on your face when I say shit like that is priceless. Writing is even better because I get to imagine the look of horror on your face. If I hadn’t accidentally punched a hole through the door with a spell earlier, I’d say this was the, uhm, second best highlight of my day. Well, okay, third—no, fourth

  Certain I was going to regret asking, I scribbled. Fourth?

  Well yeah? I mean, first combat spell that didn’t fizzle. The description in the book made it sound like the Temu version of magic missile; no guidance, just enough punch to kill a rat, but super low mana cost. A cantrip version of magic missile? Sounds about right. Maybe the doors here are just cheaply made. Second was clearly the coffee. As for the third, this isn’t onlyfans. Wait, do you think there’s a text version of onlyfans? Underwriting my experiments isn’t cheap. Diamonds might be a girl’s best friend, but I’m not picky. A little gold goes a long way, you know.

  Trying to not think about the question, I squinted but my brain jumped on the thought anyway. I’m pretty sure text onlyfans would just be fanfic forums.

  True. But I hate fanfic forums. I always feel so dirty afterward.

  One long sigh later, I asked the obvious question, given her predilections. I know what you read, Jenna. Why would fanfic forums be worse than manga? Or are catgirls just more your thing? Or I guess catboys? Are catboys even a thing?

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  A lone dot appeared on the page, as if she’d pressed pen to paper and paused to think. First off, it’s not my place to pop your cherry when it comes to fanfic boards. Be glad we have an entire reality between you and them now. What has been seen cannot be unseen. Second, don’t even get me started on catgirls or catboys. They creep me right the fuck out. Not just no, but hell no.

  I responded with a single character: ?

  Look, if you don’t know anything about cats, if you don’t think about it, catgirls make a lot of sense. They’re cute. Who doesn’t like cats, right? But here’s the thing, I’ve been on the internet too long. I know people. I also know cats and Rule 34 is a thing. God, I wish it wasn’t. Are you really sure you want me to tell you?

  Cautiously, I replied. Yes?

  Look, it makes sense that normies would jump at having a fur-buddy or fur-babe to hang out with. They’re cute, right? What sane, rational person wouldn’t like cuddling with a bigger version of a cat that presumably won’t claw your face off because they don’t like the way you breathe? Dip your toe into the horror with the realization that a non-zero number of incels like catgirls as an idea because catgirls go into heat and they’d finally have a chance at getting laid. Wade a bit further into the putrid pool and understand that cats don’t ovulate without pain. Every catgirl is, by necessity, a masochist if they intend to continue the species. For some denizens of the internet, that’s not just one feature, it’s several and explaining them is left as an exercise for the reader. I won’t willingly explain further. There’s simply not enough alcohol over here to brain bleach that out.

  I shuddered and sketched a stick figure vomiting.

  EXACTLY! But it gets worse! If you ever run into someone, regardless of gender, with an appreciation for catboys, they are not to be trusted. Ever. They’re either too innocent to think about the implications, or they have and are perfectly fine knowing the pain that causes ovulation comes from the fact that male cats have barbed junk. BARBS! ON THEIR JUNK, SAM! OMGWTFBBQ! There. That’s a thing you now know. I hope you’re happy.

  My stick figure fed himself into a woodchipper, headfirst. Why? Why would you tell me this?

  BECAUSE YOU ASKED! This is why I can’t trust furries.

  Jenna, don’t you think that’s taking things a bit far?

  I don’t know, Sam. Is it? If a hot chick with a Russian accent comes onto you, how do you know they’re not an SVR agent? Sure, the chance is low, but it’s not zero. You might be comfortable taking that chance with Russian intelligence agents, but if she had fishhooks in her hoohah, would you? Would you really? I think not. Nobody in our family is that stupid. Honestly, if there’s one bright spot about being stranded here, it’s the fact that this is a virgin land, unspoiled by the internet, untouched by Cheeto-encrusted fingers and neckbeards. Innocent and free.

  I shook my head. I guess once you factor out everything we found out from Tomas’s rescue mission, sure. You know, all the rape and forced slave breeding. Also, how do you know there aren’t any catgirls here?

  Several moments passed. Honestly, you have a point, both points actually. Are you okay, Sam?

  Suddenly confused why she would ask, I replied with a question of my own. Why would you ask that?

  You don’t usually indulge me or my little flights of fancy, at least not this much. It just struck me that maybe something’s wrong.

  To be honest, Jenna, I can’t really talk about it. Not being passive-aggressive about it. It’ll make more sense when we get back. We’re stopped for the day on a hill looking over the fog. It’s creepy as fuck. It literally looks like a sea of fog, stretching out to the horizon. I don’t have a good feeling about this, but duty calls. Aoibheann delivered on her promise to help me find you, so it’s my turn to follow through.

  Sam, you know I’m here if you need to talk right? Like, I know I’m not always easy to put up with, but this exchange has been kinda nice. A lifeline of normal I didn’t know I needed? Don’t get me wrong, everyone here is nice enough, but this isn’t home and they’re not family. I keep waking up every day hoping I’d be in my apartment by the lab. I kinda figured you might be going through similar.

  My eyes drifted to the mists below and then over to the sun threatening to touch the horizon. Honestly, I’ve had a few mornings like that, but things have been too busy for me to really stop and dwell on it.

  Tell you what, bro, you get back, you’re going out drinking with me. I’ll be the best wing-girl you’ve ever had. Should be easy. Hell, trivial if Aoife or Cailleach show up.

  I squinted at those written words. Trivial? How so?

  Girls talk, Sam, and I don’t think they realized I could hear them. “Not every tree is impressive because of its height.” Not that I wanted to know that kind of thing about my brother, but how exactly would Cailleach come to that conclusion?

  Sucking air through my teeth, I decided to respond in kind. Sorry, you’re not subscribed to my onlyfans. Ammunition isn’t cheap, you know.

  Long enough passed that I couldn’t help but imagine her grinning and faking theatrical disappointment. Touche. Well, enjoy your cold campsite. I’m going to go see if I can talk Cailleach into a massage. My neck and shoulders are killing me. Spellcraft sucks.

  I grinned. Night, sis. Stay safe.

  You too.