So they waited.
The magical barrier stretched across the land like a glowing blue Great Wall of China, humming faintly as Beard Man's head glowed in the altar like some cursed magical power source. The squad stood on the rooftop of the wizard tower, surrounded by clouds, wind, and a whole lot of pent-up awkwardness.
Their mission was nearly over. Then it was back down the cursed stairs, through the horrible tower, and back into the festering nightmare that was Moistvile.
Hopefully, along the way, Finn could find a way to get his fertility back.
Hopefully.
They'd been up there for at least five minutes now—maybe more. Finn wasn't really keeping track. He was pacing in tight circles like a crack addict outside a vape shop, muttering nonsense, twitching, and getting increasingly antsy.
Chestelle watched him with childlike enthusiasm, eyes sparkling like he was the main act of a circus she never wanted to leave.
Suddenly, Finn stopped mid-pace and snapped toward Arsenio. "How much longer do we have to wait?!"
Chestelle immediately nodded along, turning her gaze to Arsenio with obedient intensity. Like a golden retriever in heat.
Finn noticed.
He absolutely noticed.
He just chose to bury it deep, deep down and ignore the very obvious problem that was Lickthorn being jealous and Chestelle being… Chestelle.
"You can't expect me to know everything," Arsenio said innocently, raising his arms in a shrug.
Finn's eye twitched violently. "You're supposed to know!" He gestured between the altar and the giant glowing barrier. "You're the Grand Wizard Guy™! The Tower's Human Wi-Fi! You should know how this thing works and how long it takes! You're about as useful as a tour guide in Italy!"
Arsenio gasped and placed a hand on his chest as if Finn had just slapped him with a sock full of bricks. "Italy?"
His head tilted in honest confusion.
Right, Finn realized. They don't know anything from Earth. Maybe Majestria, but she's too busy being allergic to effort to be helpful.
"Was that supposed to be an insult?" Arsenio asked, eyebrows furrowed.
"Never mind. Forget what I said." Finn sighed and looked away, trying not to spiral.
"You're into boys?!" Lickthorn suddenly gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.
"What?! No, why would you think—?"
"You called me 'Italy.' Why are you denying it now? Are you shy?"
"What are you even talking about—?"
Then it hit him.
Oh no.
Please no.
Don't tell me…
'Don't tell me 'Italy' means something else in this world—'
"Finn…" Lickthorn panted, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "Do you like men more than girls?"
Her voice trembled with arousal and emotional crisis, like she was one step away from either kissing him or combusting.
"Can you stop getting turned on by everything!?" Finn barked at her, throwing his hands in the air.
Sure, maybe he was a hypocrite. But in this moment, he didn't care. Not while being emotionally assassinated by every member of his party.
"You know," Arsenio added with a smile, "in this world, 'Italy' means a girl who is very attractive. So if you called me Italy… does that mean you wish to see me as a woman?"
Finn stared at him.
Expression deadpan.
Flat as a pancake. "Absolutely not."
"Aww," Arsenio frowned and looked down, heartbroken.
Chestelle tilted her head. "But I thought you'd like something long inside you…"
Finn blinked.
"…What?" he croaked.
"I could use my nail and stick it inside your penis hole and finger your urethra," she offered sweetly, lifting a dainty finger.
Finn's jaw dropped open.
Everything about her voice was gentle.
Innocent.
Pure.
And yet the words?
War crimes.
Absolute war crimes.
The illusion of cuteness was gone.
Chestelle had officially become a horror creature in anime girl skin.
Finn instinctively grabbed his crotch in self-defense and backed away like she'd pulled a knife.
"ENOUGH!" he barked, pointing at her. "You—stay the hell away from me until I figure something out!"
Chestelle looked hurt by his words and lowered her gaze, like a loyal dog abandoned by its master.
He stumbled away from her and staggered toward Majestria like she was his only hope. She was still standing near the tower's edge, arms folded, basking in the sunset like an Instagram model in a divine filter.
"Nope," she said flatly. "Don't bring that freak energy near me."
Finn didn't hesitate.
He backed away instantly and retreated to a lonely corner of the rooftop, defeated, traumatized, and very aware of how unsafe his lower body was in this group.
Finn stood near the edge, still covering his crotch—scared and alone.
One could even say… he felt naked and afraid.
Chestelle looked at him with big puppy eyes, wanting to approach him, still confused about what she'd done wrong. Meanwhile, Lickthorn was eyeing Finn with all the subtlety of a predator in heat, thighs twitching like she was ready to pounce.
And Arsenio?
Arsenio was just being Arsenio. A wizard with too much power and not enough common sense.
Finn stared down at the ground below, still guarding his groin like it held the secrets to the universe.
Because in a way—it did.
Ever since arriving in this cursed fantasy land, he'd been tormented, assaulted, molested, and mentally wrecked by almost everything that breathed. It was like the world itself had a fetish for bullying him.
"Heh… no different from Earth, is it…" Finn chuckled to himself, voice hollow and cracked like a madman in a straightjacket.
His mind teetered on the edge of collapse. His thoughts were swirling. His grip on reality was held together by fear, trauma, and the hope that his balls would someday know peace again.
At this point, the only rational thought in his brain was, "Maybe I should just jump. Like Gaytos did in Lord of Wars."
Then—
Flap. Flap. Flap.
A strange noise cut through the air. Wings? Something flapping?
Finn didn't react. He was too busy cradling his junk and whispering words of encouragement to it.
"It's okay, buddies," he muttered, gently rubbing his balls like they were battle-worn soldiers. "I'll keep you safe. No more fingernails. No more weird comments. You're safe now…"
Flap. Flap. Flap.
Louder this time.
Finn's eyes twitched.
'What is that damn noise?'
He raised his head slowly, finally pulling himself from his internal trauma loop, and looked around.
No one in the party was flapping anything.
Lickthorn was rubbing her thighs together like she was trying to start a fire.
Arsenio was spinning his staff in the air like a conductor on crack.
Majestria was still gazing off the tower edge like she was posing for a divinity calendar.
And Chestelle? Chestelle was still watching Finn—
But now her eyes widened in pure horror. Her head slowly tilted up, not at Finn, but past him.
Her jaw dropped.
She backed away with trembling legs, tripped, and fell on her butt, pointing wordlessly at the sky behind him.
"…The fuck…?" Finn muttered.
Flap. Flap. Flap.
Now everyone noticed.
Lickthorn's eyes bulged. Arsenio's staff stopped mid-spin. Even Majestria turned, brows furrowed like something had finally pulled her attention.
A shadow covered Finn.
A massive one.
Stretching over the rooftop like death itself had unfurled its wings.
The flapping grew thunderous.
Finn's eyes widened as realization set in.
"…Oh shit."
And when he turned around—everything went straight to hell.