[b]Coleman![/b]

Good thing, too: the Wreck shoots after you, apparently having been waiting for an opening, and by the time you’ve got them in the stairwell, you’ve barely got any time to brace before it slams its bulk into you. Sasha’s legs whine as she tries to plant her feet, but the floor underfoot is slick.

You’ve got a little bit of time: Sasha’s very fast, and you’re a good engineer. Enough time to figure out a plan. Ailee’s got a big fuck-off hammer, maybe that might help crack the shell?

***

[b]Ailee![/b]

You are denied your vengeance! And now you’re in some gross stairwell. It’s horribly treacherous underfoot, but, oh, yeah. You can fly. So in the event that this calamari platter cracked open Sasha and ate your guide, you and Jackdaw would still totally be fine.

But you don’t want that, do you? You want [i]victory.[/i] You know, if Coleman managed to hold that thing steady, you might be able to take out your clown-based frustrations...

***

[b]Jackdaw![/b]

[i]She[/i] is below. This isn’t the last obstacle. That would be kind, and fair, and the Heart is neither of those things. The Flood is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, just to make leaving that much harder. You can [i]feel[/i] her, hear the furious rush of her waters.

This will, however, not be anything for you to worry about if the giant crab thing scuttling towards Sasha at high speeds smears both of you into a greasy paste underneath Sasha.

***

[b]Lucien![/b]

Well, isn’t this a merry farce? You and the clown go one way, everyone else goes the other. At least this way you’ve got time to chat, and a clear shot at its nigh-impenetrable back, if you had a clever plan.

“Why, thank you, my good man,” the clown says, giving you a questionably soggy clap on the shoulder. “That was one of my former students, you see, back when I was chasing after fleeting collegiate fame. But now I am pursuing life eternal! Have you ever considered your own mortality? Why, one day you might just wake up and the old ticker you’ve got there comes to a sudden stop, and then where are you, I ask you?”

Oh god. You’re getting recruited for a cult. By a clown.