The Sketch Survivors: The Enemy Among Us

The Curling Lands

As Soal's battle-worn boots touched down onto the silky grass, he knew he was once again in the wilderness of the Antilonian swamp. The stench enveloped him, and he pinched his nose, knowing that it would only get worse from here.

The others followed. Soal didn't know that the blue bubbles also brought Un-Characters to their destinations, but apparently they did, carrying the rest of the Legion down onto the surface.

However, something here felt... off. Soal looked around him, and realized this was different scenery from the first time that he entered this Sketch. It was still the same marshy landscape, coated with puddles of water, but there were no geysers this time. Instead, a blinding lime-green-and-yellow circle glared at them from a couple of miles away, obviously the site of the backup keys.

"That is our destination, so it seems," Soal pointed to it, alerting the drowsy legionnaires of its closeness. "It isn't far. We can get there on foot."

Accustomed to this kind of workout, all of the legionnaires, without two unofficial legionnaires, jogged up behind him. The two that could not trot up so quickly were clearly Heather and Bridget, who did not practice such exercise in their day-to-day lives before the Facility. "Please... do not... hasten..." Bridget complained, only to receive their usual supervision by Thronost and Yuirus, who were now especially adapted to deal with their whining.

The sprint began. It hadn't been long before a typical Insanity Sketch occurrence rocketed its way through the land, stabbing the swamp with its speed. Its width defied the laws of ordinary Sketches. For this object that cut through the path at such a quickness was a river, one that certainly was of enough depth to be crossed only by raft.

"Whoaa!" Soal's run ground to a halt as the sudden river streaked across the map and impeded on their journey. "Ah... well, a raft is necessary. Let's saw those trees."

The Legion had been prepared for this, and scattered across a local plot of land to harvest the lumber from the weeping willow trees, with which a raft would be crafted. With half an hour's effort without any insane hindrances, the raft, large enough to fit everyone, was complete. It wasn't the most comfortable method of transportation, and to Soal looked slightly like an incomplete sleigh, but it would get the job done.

"Alright, everyone, let's get on this thing," Soal, in quite an energized mood, shifted the raft into place so that it would travel straight across the water. "We don't have all day." One by one, the legionnaires boarded the raft; Heather and Bridget, who were placed on the sides just to amusingly scare them, were tasked with rowing the oars to propel the raft. It was after all a very, very heavy raft, supporting all of the legionnaires, mumbling among one another, all clinging to the oaken awning Soal had designed on the head of the boat with their battered, scarred hands.

The muscular Thronost heaved the raft and pushed it into the water with a playful splash. He hopped on board, and progress was underway. Of course, that would also be denied by another Insanity Sketch event.

"Look out!!" Lucy screamed in fright, and Gorshaw, who was next to her on the raft, winced. Soal, soon followed by the others, immediately turned around, and noticed with a sense of supreme apprehension that the land behind them had become a giant wave that curled up as it moved, a tsunami of land that kept all of its contents intact as they rode up to such levels as entirely upside down. And eventually, if this wave didn't catch up with the Legion, then it would curl up into a circle when it touched the ground again, completely shutting them off from their destination.

Some of the land ahead even began to fold up horizontally. Long threads of land curled in the sky seemingly from nowhere. This was an Insanity Sketch, and action needed to be taken. Now.

"Guys, don't row! Don't leave the boat! Just hold on tight!" Soal ordered, realizing that their raft could act as a surfboard, one that could harness the wave's curve to give them an edge.

Finally, the tsunami came to them, and they were on the move. The ride was precarious, but it was enjoyable to see Antilone from this angle. That was, of course, until a small forest approached. Trees blockaded their passage, and there was only one way to go. "We can't steer this thing," Irene took charge, "but we can jerk it upwards."

"What?" Soal ridiculed, but Irene was correct. With the slightly loose gravity of Antilone, where the Un-Characters could run faster and jump a bit higher than on earth, a considerably forceful yank would hurl the raft into the air, enough so that it would fly over the trees.

With a synchronized effort, besides the wailing Heather and Bridget, the Legion yanked their raft up into the air, and it sailed over the trees, landing with a thump on the wet grass of Antilone.

"There's still time!" Marsh exclaimed. The original land wave had not yet touched the ground, and there was a chance that it could still forever barricade their progress. But that was not to be. "Duck!"

And everyone, even the Lint Corp sisters, followed that order well. They bowed their heads as low as they could to avoid the end of the land wave, which had just touched down after they passed under it. They had escaped the now circular wave region. Relieved, Soal wiped his forehead, only to discover more trials ahead of them.

There was a bottomless chasm that laughed at them from beneath, one that laid just before them, securing no passage to the keys... supposedly. The raft was still moving at a similar speed to before, approaching the cliff-side. There appeared to have once been a bridge there once, but it was long gone. "The keys are right there!" Soal pointed out with a burst of determination, warning them that they had practically reached their destination. "But we need to jump!"

The chasm rumbled, and Soal gave the order. "3... 2... 1... pull!" he yelled, and all together, the legionnaires yanked up the raft one more time, sending it flipping into the air. The chasm gaped, and everyone held on tightly, as tightly as they could.

Everything looked the be happening in slow motion, just as before, when the comet Soal inadvertently created collided with Goraxk. The motion of the raft was quite unexpected. It flipped in circles a couple of times as it crossed the gap. Soal, dizzied, clung to it with all of his might, and the others, far too frightened to react, did so to a lesser extent. The Lint Corp sisters in particular appeared to let out typical high-pitched screams, but Soal could not attend to them anyway. But things would now take a turn for the worst.

Thronost released his grip accidentally on the wood of which the raft was made, and was sent plunging into the void. Despaired, Soal reached out to catch him, but it was far too late. The raft had already touched down onto the opposite end of the abyss. Suddenly, things returned to ordinary speed, and Soal shook his head exasperatedly.

Memories flooded back. Memories of Martin, and his terrible death at the hands of the Were-Worms. How dare Thronost follow him into that fate. How dare him!

"Noooo!" Soal roared, the rest of the Legion in one big heap. "Thronost!"

Irene, who had known Thronost much longer, cried out for him much louder. But there was no time to waste. They had reached the backup keys. It was time to collect them, and escape this dreadful Facility.

"Come on, everyone," Yuirus, saddened yet motivated, called out to his colleagues, absentminded in grief. "Thronost may have died, but he died for us. For the keys. We need them now. We can honor him later. Hurry!" He raced up a shallow slope to the pulsing lime-green-and-yellow site of the keys.

Sorrowfully, the Legion abandoned the raft and trailed Yuirus, only to face one of the biggest surprises of their lives.