[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/m5kgE9m.png[/img][/center] It had been over a year since their escape from the lab, and yet it felt like just yesterday for Mozart. The chaos of the outside world made every day feel like minutes, and every week feel like hours. Ever since their escape, it’s been one revelation after another. They were still on the run from the IDRG, and the ever expanding shadow of the Church of the Eye creeped over San Maria more every day. The city had turned into a nightmare of surveillance and malevolence, and he and his siblings were the only ones standing in the way. The people were scared, and the elected officials did nothing but pretend everything was normal. But even for a genetically mutated frog, nothing going on in the city was normal. [center]**********[/center] [b]Then[/b] Art played the night over in his head. Everything from the Bandits to the shadow creatures to the weird woman, nothing made sense. They had been clashing with the Bandits for months, but the gang had never been so brash with moving cargo. And what was the cargo they were carrying? The crates felt...wrong. Even being near them unnerved Mozart. Even the eye sigil that was emblazoned on top of them made his skin crawl. The black goo inside didn’t help things. It moved like it was alive, and felt malevolent. “Well that was interesting,” Bach took a seat next to the elder frog. “Shadow goop monsters and a witch. Did we lick toads?” Clara rolled her eyes, “That was bad, even for you.” “Something about those things,” Ludwig shuddered, “gave me the willies. Like we were seeing something we weren’t supposed to. Like our minds weren’t supposed to get it.” Art smiled at his brother. Ludwig often claimed he wasn’t bright, but he could pick up on things most of them never would have. His explanation of what it felt like to look at the gelatinous creature was right on the money. Mozart felt like he was next to something that would have driven him mad to stare at for long. That meant it was dangerous. “Get some rest, frogs. We’re gonna go hunting this thing tomorrow night.” [center]**********[/center] [b]Now[/b] “Drone,” Ludwig nodded to the sky. Above the alley they were hiding in, an IDRG drone drifted silently by, its orange, unblinking eye scanning for the frogs. It looked like a big, hovering butterfly made of silver, with its eye taking up the entire head. The robot’s wing-like appendages didn’t flap. They held the anti-gravity motors that allowed them to float. It was one of the scout models. No weapons, no defensive capabilities. There were dozens of them floating over the city like something out of Orwell’s worst nightmare. IDRG had released them throughout the city to not only look for his family, but also signs of the Eye. The two entities were clearly at odds with one another, but Art and the frogs had yet to figure out why. The IDRG was an opaque organization as any, and they didn’t know anything about the Eye outside of them being a cult that turned people into horrific shadow monsters. I guess they didn’t need to know much more than that. But the Eye was almost impossible to track, and they needed more info about the IDRG. That’s why they were going to hack into one of these drones. “Bach, you ready?” Art said into the commlink. His other brother and his sister were on the roof above, ready to pounce on the first drone they came across. Bach was to be the one to attach the virus delivery system to the drone, right about the eye. Being the most acrobatic of the group, he was the obvious choice. As long as Clara’s virus worked, they’d be able to tap into every scout drone, giving them eyes across the city. “Ready,” he affirmed. He shifted his weight onto his toes, and sprung off the roof in a leaping backflip. As his head came skimming over the mechanical lookout his hand flashed from his belt, flinging the flash drive towards its target. He watched, almost as if he was in slow motion as the receptacle found its target. Bach let out a silent victory celebration before landing on the next roof over. He whispered into his comm, “We are in!” “Good work, team,” Art responded with a smile. “Let’s get home and play with our new toys.” [center]**********[/center] [b]Then[/b] Something was foul in the sewers beneath San Maria. Well, something more than the normal. The Frogs had often used the sewers to get around the city unseen, but lately Art had been looking over his shoulder while they did so. There was a presence down there. Something new. Something malevolent. It had been weeks since their first encounter with the Church of the All-Seeing Eye. That’s what the sigil was on top of the crates the Bandits had been moving. Angel had found it doing some research at her school. An ancient cult from the era of ancient Egypt, the Church was believed to have been eradicated by the Pharaohs and their chosen warriors. Angel had said there were brief mentions of it elsewhere throughout history, but nothing like their original incarnation. But if the Frogs’ experiences meant anything, the Church was back and stronger than ever. They had interrupted five more shipments in the past month. More concerning were the ceremonies they had come across. They were like things out of a horror movie. Innocent victims tied up in the middle of a large eye painted on the floor. Chanting, robed figures swaying rhythmically as the priestess drove her dagger into their sacrifice. There was a panic in the streets. Whispers of the end times and Satan, but the Frogs knew it was something else. The Church’s teachings didn’t speak of Anubis or Satan or Pagan gods to wipe the Earth clean. Instead they spoke of horrific abominations hiding in the space between universes, ready to devour and corrupt once they were called forth. That’s what the Eye was doing in San Maria. Art and his siblings didn’t know why it was here, or why it was now, but they had to stop it. “You guys are getting close,” Angel said from the command center. She volunteered to be the eyes and ears for this mission. More accurately, the Frogs couldn’t say no. She had been invaluable to them until this point, and she was desperate to get involved with their fight. “Epicenter is only a few dozen yards down your current path is the epicenter.” Strange things had been happening in this part of town. Talks of tar crawling across roads and people disappearing were rampant, adding to the already high tensions in the city. The Frogs figured it was the work of the eye, as the tar sounded familiar to the black substance the Bandits had been running. As he and his siblings approached their final destination, he felt like he stepped through a membrane. The air around him became a veil of sickness. A wave of nausea ran through him, and he put his hand on the slimy wall of the sewer to steady himself. “You felt that too?” Clara winced as the feeling dissipated. “Felt like too many spins on the computer chair.” “I’m gonna ralph,” Bach stuck his hand over his mouth. Ludwig shook the feeling from his head, “We’re close.” After a few more turns through the sewers brought them to their end goal. There, they found a monstrosity unlike any of them had ever seen. A bouquet of oily, tar-like tentacles flopped indescrimentantly around a large antechamber in the sewers. They sounded like rotten, raw sausages slapping against wet brick. The look and sound amplified the slight nausea they all felt. On top of the writhing tentacles sat a carapace like a lobster. Its slick, shiny, black armor spun around to face them, revealing two white, infected-looking eyes that cried tar. It fell down into the creature’s gaping maw surrounded by mandibles that constantly fed the tar back into its body. “What are you?” a voice exploded into Art’s mind. It was like a bullhorn filtered through Darth Vader’s respirator. Art felt a presence in his mind, probing for a weakness, before recoiling, “Why can I not enthrall you!?” “Sorry, you’re not our type,” Bach sneered at the creature. Art looked over at Clara, who glanced back. This was not what they were expecting to find. They had seen the Eye’s zombie-like foot soldiers, but this was on an entirely different level. This had to be one of their gods. “You insolent creature,” the creature’s garbled, slobbering bellow reverberated through their heads, “you stare at the pestilence of existence. Y’as Harggo’th, the Devourer stares you in the face and you jest. Now you shall join the bones of trillions before you as you spend eternity satiating my hunger!” “You wish, freakshow,” Ludwig snarled. So this is why people had been disappearing. This abomination had literally been eating them to gain its strength. If the Frogs didn’t stop it now, who knows how powerful it would get. Art pulled his bo staff off his back and prepared for battle. Around him his siblings drew their own weapons, ready for the fray. With a battle cry, the fight was on. [center]**********[/center] [b]Now[/b] Art shot up in his bed, a cool sweat covering his body. He still dreamed about their encounter with Y’as Harggo’th at times. The otherworldly monster tested them like nothing had before or since. In fact, if Clara hadn’t noticed the Eye priestess inside the tangle of tentacles. Once she was expunged, the creature disintegrated into the tar substance the Bandits were bringing into the city. It was then that Kemsit, the priestess, told them all they knew about the Eye’s plan up until this point. The Church wanted to bring their gods into the world in order to make it a utopia for the followers of the Eye. The rest of the world, however, would find the new reality a hellscape. Until the veil of the universe was pierced the planet was relatively safe. The gods were weak when they reached into their world otherwise. Still, the Frogs had no idea where the Church was based, and how to stop more monstrosities from appearing in their city. “Art, get in here,” Clara called from the main room of their lair. He hopped out of bed and headed there, passing through the former bomb shelter’s cramped hallways. They were lucky to have found this place. It was off the map, only designed to protect an old railway magnate from a Japanese attack during World War II. The wiring and furniture was old, but Clara and Ludwig had updated everything into modernity. It was their home now, and they had made it their own. When he made it to the great room, he had found their friend Angel had joined them. “Hey, Art!” she smiled at him as she worked away at a school paper. He shot a grin back. She had made his family feel normal, and always was there to lighten their spirits. It also helped that she was incredibly intelligent and brave. She was their gateway to the real world, and could go out and get information they never could. She offered him a plate, "Want some cookies?" “I could go for that,” Art nodded. “Need some help?” “I’m already helping!” Bach protested as he flipped the book he had been reading upside down to the proper orientation. He mock stroked his chin, "Very interesting." “We can all help,” Ludwig rolled his eyes. “Well I’m helping the mo-” Bach was cut off by an alert on their computer. Clara headed over and pulled up the video, “It’s from the drones. We’re already getting information back!” The video wasn’t something to celebrate, though. In it, a young child following his mother stops dead in his tracks as they walk alone down a city street. The boy turns to face an alleyway. A figure steps forward and beckons the boy towards him. As it does, the collected group gasps. “Is that?” Angel asks, agape. “It can’t be,” Clara adds. “No way,” Ludwig grunts. “It is,” Art shakes his head. “It’s Santa Claus.” “But it's June,” Bach was perplexed. "June and when's the last time Santa abducted kids?" Angela asked. "Looks like we have some investigating to do," Mozart said to his siblings. "Get some rest. Tomorrow night we hunt for Santa Claus."