The Shell was a maze of a building with narrow halls that criss-crossed and lights that appeared to be turned to the lowest setting. They were so dim that they occasionally flickered. Unadorned cement walls and floors gave the hallways an eerie appearance, which was only enhanced with the poor lighting.

  Father turned into the first room and nearly pulled the trigger immediately. He stopped himself upon seeing a few rows of rolling dumpsters. It was just a trash room with a single isopod lounging in a small office.

  Spark

  The muted screams of the burning isopod barely reached Father as he wound back into the hall. He turned to the right and accidentally smacked the barrel against a crab’s cheek. They were too close to fire, and the noise would just alert others.

  Father dropped the shotgun and smashed his forehead into the crab's face.

  Zap

  Father turned casting the spell into a full punch. His claw crashed into the crab's stomach as electricity rushed through the chitin and made the crab seize up. Father grabbed the crustacean and slammed him into the wall repeatedly until blood blossomed in the water. He dropped the crab, kicked him aside, and retrieved the shotgun.

  An isopod scurried around the corner with a wheeled miniature dumpster trailing behind. He had multiple arms pulling while all of his other arms pumped furiously to keep up the quick pace.

  Father stepped aside as the isopod passed. Wheels thunked over the dead crab, yet the isopod continued on his way, seemingly unaware or uncaring about the corpse. The creature turned, drifting a corner, and vanished in the direction of the garbage room.

  “Wait.” Father looked at the shotgun. “Should’ve killed him.”

  It wouldn’t be long before the little creature found its burnt comrade. If the isopods were closely affiliated with the Hardbody Crustaceans, then Father had to assume the alarm would be raised momentarily. If they were just forced into work, maybe they would be slower to report anything. Or if the isopod needed to mourn his friend, he could be too distraught to notify anyone.

  Father figured he would use what time he had to get deeper into the Shell and to find something to hint at what the best approach might be when it was finally time. A route to his Son was the main goal, but finding a way to cause the absolute most destruction possible wouldn’t be a bad thing. Father could make use of any information he could get his claws on.

  Father slowed his hustle since there was no sign that the isopod had alerted anyone. He stopped at the next corner and peered around the side. The narrow back hallways ended and opened to a bigger room beyond. It wasn’t a lobby or entrance, but it looked like some kind of waiting area or chamber somewhere in the middle of the cathedral-like structure. There were many turns Father hadn’t taken, and while he was eager to see what was hidden in the labyrinth, moving forward was his best option.

  Two clownfish guards stood on either side of a double door made of blue coral. They faced perpendicular from Father, so he had no direct view of the second guard. They each held submachine guns loosely in their fins and watched forward diligently.

  If Father sent a fireball, he could potentially hit both, and a rock throw might roll far enough to crush the second fish, but any smaller, quieter spell wouldn’t have a chance to hit both guards before one was alerted.

  Father looked at his list of spells. Tickle could immobilize one without immediately raising a red flag, but it didn’t seem likely. Seeing someone collapse in a laughing fit without any warning tended to cause concern. Slowing, shocking, or causing the closer fish to burst into flames would cause a whole lot of concern too.

  Magic Missile

  Throw a seeking missile of magic. Tracks the intended target. Moves as fast as it is thrown.

  “Tracks the intended target,” Father whispered. If the intended target was the second fish, could he throw the missile and hit the target even with a fish blocking the way? It seemed possible. It seemed like the exact scenario for magic missile.

  Father selected the spell and felt a momentary shock of energy in his elbow. A long tube of cloudy magic. When he focused on it, Father could make out a pointed top and fins on the rear. It was truly a rocket-powered missile, but one he had to throw. There was substance under his claws like holding a bottle filled with liquid, though a true bottle of that size filled with something other than water would be too heavy to hold so simply, even with Father’s outstanding body builder strength.

  He took a step forward and threw the missile like a javelin. If he could have combined classes, using his athlete abilities to throw with perfect form or to throw further or more accurately would turn the magic missile into a true weapon of mass destruction.

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  Father’s aim was entirely off as he threw with every ounce of his strength. The missile was headed straight to the ground, but curved upward. Before hitting the closer clownfish, it swerved sharply to the left.

  Spark

  “What?” The clownfish flinched as the smoky missile passed in front. He turned, eyes wide, weapon raised, as the fire spell made contact.

  Father pressed himself against the wall and peeked around the corner. The closer clownfish burst into flames, and before the second could react, the missile hit him and exploded into a cloud of magical smoke. The walls rumbled as both clownfish were tossed aside. One continued to burn, and the other was a mess of peeled flesh and flailing limbs.

  “What in the heavens?” Heavy footsteps thundered across the waiting room. A grouper, even bigger than Magaleus, stormed into the hallway. He held a baseball bat with nails driven through. Bulging, twitching muscles pressed against the fish’s white tank top. He was a true monster charging right at Father.

  Father pulled back around the corner and ran. Footsteps pounded behind him, rumbling the floor itself. The hallways were too winding and confusing, if Father ran carelessly, he would end up lost or he’d stumble into a new boss without being prepared. A shotgun blast likely wouldn’t do anything to the charging grouper, but a giant ball of exploding fire likely would.

  Fireball

  Father turned and launched the spinning ball of fire. The grouper was far closer than he had expected with the baseball bat already raised and poised to strike. Fireball spread out like a molten net and smacked against the grouper’s body. The baseball bat came down and tore a chunk of the ground free right between Father’s legs.

  The explosion would kill Father too and he hadn’t learned a thing. He needed a better plan inside the Shell. He needed a route. He needed to see his Son. Dying now would just delay him even more. There would be another few runs. More walks along the sand, more Hardbody Crustacean corpses.

  Not yet. He couldn’t die yet.

  Rock Throw

  Father pulled up a chunk of ground right beneath himself, causing him to tumble onto his back. The ground raised and blocked the narrow hallway. Pipes burst, releasing bubbles. Father flinched as fireball exploded. Jets of flames reached over the boulder, but failed to touch or burn Father. He released the spell and let the boulder fall back into place. It didn’t sit well in the hole, but it had done its job and kept him fire free.

  Father stepped onto the broken floor and waited. The grouper was no more than a cloud of soot and meat. Walking through it would require Father to essentially eat some fish, which he wasn’t entirely against. It was just a tad overcooked.

  After a moment to let his cooldowns reset, Father strode through the remains of the grouper and made his way back through the halls to the waiting room. The spark flames had died out and the smoke from magic missile had settled, leaving two twisted clownfish corpses in front of the grand double door. Father tapped one with his foot, then slid it aside.

  “Hey, uh, leave that for the cleaners.”

  Father turned with the shotgun raised. A tan shrimp sat in a chair. Black stripes ran along the edges of each segment. Antennae wiggled as the shrimp sat more upright.

  “Who are you?” Father asked.

  Both eyes on the edge of stalks bounced while flicking between the dead clownfish and Father. “Tiger.”

  “Are you waiting?”

  “For what?”

  Father took a step back until his heel tapped the door. Tiger was big for a shrimp. He seemed entirely calm despite seeing the clownfish die. The shrimp hadn’t moved from his chair on the other side of the room.

  “Isn’t this a waiting room?”

  Tiger swiveled his head. His eyes lolled and looked all around the room. “I suppose it is.” The shrimp suddenly stood. His tail pushed the chair over.

  “Are you with the Hardbody Crustaceans?”

  “With them?” Tiger grabbed a leather jacket with five sleeves on each side. He slipped it on and popped the collar. “I’m the duke.”

  Father flinched as his vision flashed. Yellow lines slid over the floor, then outlined Tiger.

  Third in Command

  Duke Tiger

  Wizard

  The shrimp cocked his head. “It’s you, isn’t it? This whole magic thing.” Tiger grabbed a pointed witch hat from another chair and set it on his head. The brim rested on his eye stalks. “I had a message in my vision this morning telling me someone was going to murder me. It seemed like a funny little joke until I was given a class. From the, uh, fillets beside you, I guess you’re a wizard too.”

  The bosses hadn’t had classes. Logs was just an eel, Holo was a shrimp, and even Magaleus and Borokurk were regular sea creatures. If the top three in the Hardbody Crustaceans had attributes and abilities like Father, he was in for trouble.

  “If you’re not waiting, why are you sitting out here?”

  Tiger waved a few hands dismissively. “I didn’t want to bother Chaz. Did you bring the money or were you planning on just toasting everyone here?”

  “I don’t have any money,” Father said. All of his cooldowns were finished. He could throw a fireball, a boulder, and a magic missile at Tiger. Even if the shrimp also had abilities, he didn’t have as much experience as Father.

  “You know, it was originally my idea to take your Son. He’ll fetch a good price from someone. If it’s not the ransom from you, then we’ll find someone who needs a sexy crustacean. There’s plenty of creatures in the hadopelagic zone looking for sexy playthings.”

  Father pulled the trigger and tossed the shotgun aside. The spray of buckshot spread too much to really hit its target. Some beads hit Tiger and made the shrimp flinch. Eight arms lifted to protect the shrimp’s body, but he could still see from his wide-set eyes.

  Father pulled a handgun from his waistband and aimed his other claw at Tiger. As Father pulled the trigger, a blue shield formed in front of the shrimp. The bullet hit the magic construct and ricocheted off.

  Fireball

  Tiger swiped his shield aside and formed his own swirling ball of liquid fire around a tiny shrimp hand. Both spells launched at the same time and collided with enough force to send a shockwave through the water. Father crashed into the door and fell beside the clownfish corpses. The true explosion of the spells followed a moment later, lighting up the waiting room like the sun.