At the end of a long and tiring day, Kirin sat alone in a classroom. It was stupid, and he knew it, to go anywhere alone. Even if Operation Meatgrinder had lowered the zombie population, the walking dead were still out there.

As it had so often during the course of the day, Kirin's right hand wandered to his pocket, tracing the object within. Something about this silly-looking pen gave him a confidence boost. Made him braver, stronger. More certain that he would get out of here alive. Of course that was all still bravado, and the strategic centre of his brain knew it, but it was a heady feeling, nonetheless.

So, yeah, Kirin didn't feel too bad about slumping in a chair in an abandoned maths room where - what now felt like weeks ago - he'd first stumbled across other survivors of the zombie breakout. It felt like so much longer than mere days. Tallahassee had been decimated. Was Kirin the only one left alive? He wasn't sure, maybe one or two others had survived and simply hidden themselves away. Tallahassee and Columbus had combined, but again, numbers had been lost during Sue's big battle. Bravado was a tiny, cold comfort against the reality of dwindling numbers. But better than no comfort at all. Besides, Kirin was used the cold.

Idly, he wondered how Miss Grey Kitty was faring. He'd understood completely when she left him. "You gotta do what you can to get what you need," he'd told her as she left him under covers of trees. Well, he'd tried to get it out, who knew how understandable he'd been, faint and collapsing after slicing a rift open to carry himself and the cat past the barrier surrounding the school.

He had no idea what Astraea had been looking for in here - thought she was suicidal for wanting to enter this hellhole. But she was in here, somewhere, and she knew what he could do now, and there was something almost comforting about knowing there was someone around that he didn't have to lie to about every last, little thing.

"Great, now you're really turning into a girl," Kirin huffed. Rocking back on his chair, he twisted to stare out the window. Where once there had been a view of the dorms, there was instead sky, slowly sinking into sunset.

He toyed again with the pen in his pocket. There was an itch to see what else he could do, apart from pass out like one of the real Barren Pines girls faced with staking out a zombie. It would be dark soon, any survivors would be finding places to hole up for the night. It was, he decided, a rather perfect time to try experimenting without worrying about someone seeing him.

"And what would they do if they did, call the news?" he laughed darkly. There was no one to tell here. No one coming to save them from anything - not from zombies, not from magical 'terrorists'. If anyone was going to save Kirin, it was going to be Kirin himself. He'd thought that all along, but now his plans had changed from data lines to magical powers. It was silly and stupid and freeing and he couldn't help but laugh with something approaching actual joy, and ********, how long had it been since Kirin had felt that?

Kirin kicked out of his chair and made for the door, an honest to god grin on his face. Exiting the room, he took a left down the hallway, aiming for the stairs. It wasn't until then that he realised he was still clutching the metal pipe (formerly a chair leg) that had been his constant companion everywhere he went the past few days. Well, he didn't need that anymore, did he? Kirin threw the weapon down, head cocked as he listened to the clank, clank, roooollll echo up and down the hall. Shaking his head, he continued on. His pace increased. A few more steps and he was running.

As soon as he hit the enclosed stairwell that led to the roof, Kirin grabbed the pen from his pocket. He lifted it high into the air. Maybe he was caught up in the moment, maybe he was buying into some part of this magical girl s**t. "Foramen Power, Make-Up!" he called. 'Once more with feeling,' he thought, everything completely different from the dreamy, peaceful transformation the first time.

The effect was the same. Bright lights and then Foramen was there, thrumming with energy and power (and, yes, the stupid urge to find a princess). He burst out onto the roof. Throwing his arms open wide, Foramen inhaled deeply. For being stuck in a horror movie, he felt pretty amazing right now. He could perform back flips and somersaults. Leap from one building across to the next. Drop several floors down to the ground and land without a scratch or bruise. He could -

- watch the sky darken. Goosebumps broke out on Kirin's skin. It was too early for sunset, let alone twilight. The darkness was also appearing in a uniform manner: all of the sky began to darken at once, no east to west. Faint darkness grew before Foramen's wide eyes, until there was only pitch black above him. The only stars present were those on his bow and trailing sash.

Crap. What the hell was he meant to do now?

Find the princ-

"Oh, sure, that's bloody helpful!" Kirin yelled. ******** useless brainwashing job. No, he had a better idea. Miss Priss Kitty was still around, and she at least pretended to know far more about this sort of thing than Kirin did. The only problem was were to find a small grey cat who had snuck in and most likely trying to lay low.

Dashing to the edge of the roof, Foramen swept his gaze over the grounds. Thankfully the magic transformation was boosting his eyes, as well, so he wasn't blind as a bat in this artificial night. No sign of anything moving outside. If he wanted to find Astraea, she was going to be in one of the remaining buildings. And that was how many buildings with how many floors each and how many hidden zombies lying in wait? It was enough to make Foramen wish more of them had burned ******** it all, not worth it," he muttered. He'd be better off waiting this out, he decided. Decision made to head back to the classroom and avoid the hassle of searching, Kirin reached for the handle to the stairwell. He jerked, stunned by a horrifying notion. If Astraea didn't make it back, her emotional feline friend was surely going to blab Kirin's secret in retaliation.

Foramen let his head bang forward into the door. "********," he cursed. This day got worse and worse. No time to waste, then. All it was going to take was one fast zombie deciding that they didn't need their Chinese Surprise dinner cooked first.

The stairwell door banged several times as Foramen flung it aside and raced down the stairs. Any search needed a good strategy - floor by floor back down to the ground, then next building. Floor by floor up, then testing out that impulse from before to leap from roof to roof. And so on and so forth, until he found that annoying, bossy, little furball and make sure she didn't kick the bucket until after being returned to ********, could this day get any worse?

To the universe at large, Kirin prayed, '... Please don't answer that.'