Wood or iron, they burn all the same.

“Victim is Samuel West, age forty-three,” Jin read off her interface. “Occupation, auto mechanic. Divorcee, one child but they’re working in another state.”

Chang flicked down a row of switches on the dashboard as they began their ascent. The Triton made a low rumble through the changing water pressure, accompanied by a faint bubbling sound.

“Great, now I know the guy,” he said. “Are you going to tell me he worked the soup kitchen too? Owned two pugs and a tabby?”

“He owned a red-tailed boa.”

“There we go. A snake person. No one good ever owned a snake.”

“Don’t you own a snake?”

Chang coughed into his fist, clearing his throat with a loud gargled noise. “So any details on the death itself?”

“They only found the body recently. We don’t have much until they finish analysing the scene. Only thing we do know is the victim’s identity.”

“And the fact it’s a homunculus attack.”

“We don’t know that yet. Could be a wild animal.”

He sneered. “Wild animal? What, a rat? A cockroach?”

“Bear or wolf.”

“Or Big Foot.”

“It’s not so far-fetched,” she defended. “Attack took place right near Thesbesia National Park. If there’s wild animals left anywhere on Earth, it’d be there, surrounded by trees and foliage.”

“Ah yes, trees.” Chang took his hands off the helm to make air quotes. “Made of wood and leaves.”

Jin didn’t have the energy to argue with him. She just rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. Judging by the rays of neon lights piercing through the depths, they were nearing the docks. The water itself was also growing into a dark green the closer they approached, mixing with the surrounding sewage and waste. She strapped herself in as the Triton started to emerge from the river.

“Did you want Faust to join the Lethe unit?” asked Chang.

Jin turned to him. She didn’t expect such a serious tone.

“Hypothetically speaking, of course,” he added.

“The bureau could’ve used someone like him. World’s leading homunculi expert and a powerful Esper too.”

“I reckon it’s for the best he didn’t.”

“For the best?” She raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Most of the time, when you pledge the Lethe, you never find out who you used to be. Sure, you have a few memories left, but never enough to piece together a life.”

“You think it’s a cruel existence? Not knowing who you were?”

“Actually, it’s rather liberating.”

Jin glared at him, waiting for an answer.

“I mean, why would you want to remember?” he explained. “If we were all criminals, remembering would only bring guilt. This way, it feels like a fresh start.”

“So why do you say it’s best that Faust didn’t pledge?”

“For most people, you never realise who you were. It’s easy for an average person to get completely wiped from the world’s consciousness. School records, birth certificates, even

friends and associates. But someone like Faust? You can’t make people forget public enemy number one, not to mention all his books and media appearances. There’s only so much you can censor. Doesn’t that sound like living hell? To know you have committed so many heinous crimes, to have the world hate you, yet not even remember what you did?”

The Triton shot through the river’s surface, water splashing down the display screen. Jin gripped the handle as the armour suit jolted, then quivered with the crashing waves. They could glimpse the waterfront in the horizon; the layer of thawing snow appeared like a thin white line. Even this far away, the flashing red and blue lights reflected off the water.

“But he would have lived,” Jin pointed out. “Isn’t that enough?”

Chang just shrugged. “Maybe. Who can say?”

❖

After arriving at the waterfront, the Triton took a nearby canal to the crime scene. Cisterna was the district of the city closest to Thesbesia National Park, so far in the outskirts that most considered it a separate town entirely. Luckily, it was small enough that one canal was enough to lead them wherever they needed to go.

The Triton rose from the water, one silver foot at a time. Its lumbering form stopped at the border of the yellow police tape and knelt with the sound of whirring cogs. The earth cracked under its weight.

Jin leapt out of the cockpit while Chang shut down the engine. Another Runner at the scene greeted them with a roar.

“If it isn’t the Ashwalker!” Clint Séquard was a behemoth of a man, the sort that could crack open a skull between his bare hands. His hearty laugh did nothing to disguise that fact. “Still kicking, aren’t ya?”

“Mr Séquard. I’m surprised to see you here,” said Jin. “I was told you were on leave.”

In truth, on leave was as polite a euphenism as they come. Runner Clint Séquard, more infamously known by his peers as the Vieussen Ripper, was currently suspended. His weapons were confiscated and all bureau-issued cybernetics blacklisted. Ironically, the bureau suspended him for the same reason they made him Elite Rank: he was very, very good at killing homunculi.

“I have a holiday home in Cisterna,” said Séquard. “Came down here for a vacation. Walk around the national park, go sailing, that sort of stuff. When they reported a homunculus attack in the area, the commissioner asked me to come in. Thank god, too, cause I was bored out of my fucking mind.”

Chang got down from the Triton and flinched when he saw the burly Runner. Jin heard him swear under his breath.

“Major General,” said Chang, saluting.

“Well, well, well. If it ain’t little Cadet Chang.” Séquard poked the helmsman’s dreadlocks. “You grew out your hair.”

“Yes sir.”

“I keep saying the bureau needs to have grooming regulations. Long hair like that will get you killed out there, kid.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“Mr Séquard,” Jin cut in. “Would you be able to show us the body?”

“Always stoic, Yurinhalt.” The Ripper dropped Chang’s hair, turning his attention to the crime scene behind him. His colossal frame struggled to step over the police tape. “Alright, come on in.”

He lead them down to Samuel West’s body, half-buried in snow and found in the carpark of a gas station. It was the only bit of civilisation for hundreds of miles, a lone blip of colour in a great white ocean.

The corpse had been left overnight, and the cold winter had bleached its skin deathly pale. Its neck and abdomen were a rustic red, flaked with bits of snow like powdered sugar on a buttered scone. Intestines were strewn across the ground and crimson icicles hung off the man’s fingers.

The police officers around the body cleared away when Séquard approached.

“Esophagus is destroyed,” he detailed. “If the bite was any deeper, it would’ve decapitated him.”

“Any missing organs?” asked Jin, approaching the corpse.

“Most of the abdominal ones. The homunculus must’ve been hungry.”

“And we’re certain this was a homunculus?”

Séquard sneered. “You think any other animal could’ve done this? Caused this amount of damage? Bite radius and wounds match the schematics of a Marauder model. The force of the bite relative to damage matches most homunculi too.”

He pointed to the other side of the snowy field, where white shifted to green. “The homunculus must’ve been hiding in Thesbia. Ran out of carrion, popped out to look for food, and found Samuel West up here. Poor man was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Jin put on a pair of gloves and dusted off some of the snow covering the body. She examined every wound, running her fingers over the viscera and listing all the missing parts in her mind. It must’ve been a homunculus attack, she told herself. There was no better explaination. The bite marks weren’t as wide as bears or wolves, and neither tended to eat where they kill. Whatever it was, it was smart enough to understand where and when it was safe to eat. Above all, it wasn’t afraid of humans.

“And the homunculus went back into the forest?” she asked.

“Only place for the bastard to hide. Don’t even know why they keep all these lumps of wood if it’s just gonna be a homunculi nest.”

“It’s not wood.”

“What?”

“It’s not wood,” Chang echoed. He quickly looked away when Séquard glared at him.

“There’s not a single real tree in Thesbia National Park,” said Jin. “All the forests are just antenna towers. Communication systems, cell towers, surveillance equipment. All painted brown and green and covered with shrubbery.”

“Not like anyone notices,” added Chang.

Séquard folded his arms and scoffed. “So? Just give me a gallon of oil and a lighter. Wood or iron, they burn all the same.”

“Sir, those towers are uh, pretty important infrastructure.”

“Not as important as taking out the homunculus.”

“Steep price for just one though, isn’t it?”

“The battle is won, one homunculus at a time. You let one escape, it breeds a dozen more and by the end of the week, you have another army to fight. This is scorched earth, Cadet. We must spare no ground and give no inch.”

“I know what scorched earth is. It’s how the Persians fought back the Romans. How the Russians defeated Napoleon.”

“Not the same thing, kid.”

Just as Jin picked up a torn-off bit of flesh, Séquard said, “Those were the wars of great men. This is pest control.”