Mud, Mothers, and Moist Miracles

The air hangs heavy. The streets of Market Town, once murmuring with late-night vendors and sleepy-eyed merchants, now pulses with eerie silence. 

A few moments ago, the sky had been torn open by crimson magic, and the most feared being in the known world, the Demon Queen herself, had stepped out of myth and into reality.

Now, people scramble.

Knights try to regroup.

Priests mutter stunned prayers.

And in the center of it all, Pip diligently helps Vuvi out of a puddle of cold, sticky mud.

He wipes at her cheek gently with a soft cloth that emerges from his internal compartment. Her eyes are wide, cheeks blotched with tear tracks and dirt.

"Don't touch me," she mutters, slapping his hand away weakly.

He doesn't stop. He just beeps gently, a musical, soothing note as he cleans her face with reverent care.

She looks at him, her lips trembling, eyes welling with new tears.