The best way for you to breach a place undetected is to let your adversary believe they’ve already solved the problem. Imagine infiltrating a base with a perfect mission—slipping in and out without leaving a single trace. That’s perfect in theory, perfect in idea. But it’s also very unrealistic. You simply can’t plan for everything; things get weird all the time, and plans go off the rails. You can’t predict what you don’t know.


    So, instead, you create conditions where it doesn’t matter if the infiltration isn’t flawless, as long as your enemy is distracted by other matters. This is why I favor the bomb-and-slip approach. When someone thinks they’re under attack, that they’re being raided, a lot of their resources are diverted to fighting the obvious threat and dealing with blatant saboteurs. Once the raiders are eliminated, most people assume the danger has passed—missing what I’m doing altogether.


    -William Yu


    II-77


    Shadowrun (I)


    “All right, the Duke’s on the move. He just met up with the Collectress. Expect him to be crossing over into her love-nest in a few more moments.” William’s said.


    For the past few hours, Wei spent the time mingling with the other Sinners, trying to gauge what to expect from the Circle of Pride. True to its word, Pride defined most of them—arrogance, confidence, and overall dominance were their guiding virtues. Contests of bravery and bravado were commonplace, and more than a few duels were fought, though mostly by proxy. There were an inordinate number of summoners among the Sinners of Pride, a peculiarity no one could quite explain.


    This was a place for those who fancied themselves the nobles, the elites of the Claimed Hells. They might not have been the richest, but they wielded the most authority. Beyond summoners, there were also those who empowered others—individuals who created dimensions and small zones of influence to twist reality in subtle ways. It was all fascinating to watch, and although they weren’t particularly powerful in terms of martial prowess, it spurred thoughts and ideas on how he could expand his own Skills and Aspects.


    “You know, you really should think about creating zones of control,” Bulgest Gemeater said. This sinner had been personally introduced to Wei via the Old Man, who mentioned that he was a great fan of what Wei had done to Many-wed. Something personal had transpired between him and the Countess of Envy—details were scarce, but the underlying hate was unmistakable in his voice.


    Aside from this, Gemeater was a particularly interesting individual. Lacking flesh, his body was mostly a crystalline composite that reflected light. In that very refraction, most of his skills were born. His class was called Lightbender, Weaver of the Crystalline Sublime—an awfully long title that didn’t exactly roll off the tongue. Yet the way he fought was odd: he created structures from the very substance that composed his skin, establishing Zones of Dominance.


    He then explained to Wei how he could manipulate the battlefield, giving his allies a strategic advantage through control of geography and geometry. Wei listened intently, nodding at times and scoffing at others. But before more could be discussed, William’s message arrived, diverting Wei’s attention to other concerns.


    “Agnesia, my father will be infiltrating soon. What is your condition?” came the message.


    “Still fine. I’ve been left to my own devices in the room. There are a series of streams I can watch—the chat menu lets me glimpse into various Bloodgames, theaters, and shows. Otherwise, I’ve been a little… bored,” came the reply.


    “Very well, let me know if anything changes. Or if you need anything.”


    Agnesia sent him an image. Apparently, it was a picture of a mixed fruit assortment offered to Agnesia. Good to know that the Collectress at least humored the ideas of hospitality.


    Wei reached out and placed a hand on Gemeater’s shoulder. “Pardon me, this is very interesting, but would you mind sharing your chat details so that we can speak again in the future? Something has suddenly come up—sect matters.”


    Gemeater paused and nodded. “Of course, of course.” A tendril of Essence extended, and Wei watched their information appear within his perception. Interesting. So this was the “Add Friend” function.


    After parting from the conversation, Wei turned his focus inward and contacted his father. The man had a way out through the Duke of Pride. How William was going to exit Goldmask’s Inventory without them knowing, Wei had no idea, but Bishop seemed to have little concern about this plan.


    “All right,” Wei said. “What do we do now?”


    “Now? Now we wait for a little bit,” William replied. “We got the whole situation set up before I can start moving. Bishop, do you have a tag set up? We need to find where the… Scion’s wife and kid are before I go on my walk.”


    “Now don’t worry,” Bishop said, his tone distracted. “I’m getting through some of her demons. That’s the thing about being powerful, Wei: The help is always vulnerable. Pay someone less than you, find someone weaker than you, and eventually they’ll find a way to screw up or get turned.”


    “Yes, you know from personal experience, don’t you?” Wei taunted, recalling Bishop’s previous failure.


    Bishop winced. “You know a good man died there.”


    “Yes, good men die everywhere. In fact, an entire realm filled with people died, but it seems the stars don’t care.”


    Wei’s casually callous remark took Bishop by surprise. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose you’re right. But don’t let your heart go cold, or else the bastards and monsters will find you good company.”


    “It seems they already find me good company,” Wei said, looking around at the Sinners. “We are in hell.”


    “You see, I’d argue against that. The fact that we’re here and still planning this shows that nothing is over. That there’s still one last hurrah of chivalry yet.” Then, Bishop laughed, and Wei heard something in his voice—something bitter.


    Just then, another message came through from Agnesia: “Wei, the entire structure just shook. I think there’s just


    “What?” Wei exclaimed, alarm sparking in his voice.


    “It’s all part of the plan,” William said calmly.


    Wei’s attention and ire immediately turned to his father. “What do you mean, part of the plan? What have you done?”


    “Nothing, just creating good conditions for our infiltration. The Goldskull and the Collectress are deep inside now, having circumvented much of the outer perimeter defenses. Their demons will soon be scrambling to fight off the, uh, rebels.”


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    “Intruders,” Wei echoed.


    “Oh, nothing. Bishop just helped me foment a little slave rebellion.”


    Wei’s mind spun. This was all meticulously plotted. His father was using another catastrophe as a distraction—a brilliant maneuver, albeit one that left him questioning the fate of the slaves. “Well, some of them are going to die free, some will die screaming, and some will simply revert to being slaves. I’m just giving them a little choice, a last hurrah, if you will.” The casual way his father dismissed the lives of others was a sobering reminder of the man he barely knew—and a reminder that life was cold and cruel.


    “Why didn’t you tell me what you were planning?” Wei snapped.


    “Because it wasn’t a plan, just an opportunity,” William replied, absentmindedly. “They were either going to get sold and spent, or they could choose to make the last choice they have. The only one that mattered.”


    “We are feeding lambs to wolves,” Wei said.


    “No. We’re just letting them run free one more time.”


    “They were always going to get used,” Bishop replied evenly. “Listen, I understand you don’t like what’s about to happen, but if we don’t create an opening, we risk losing our easiest angle of approach. And you don’t want to know what happens with these slaves. Best that things end this way. Best they get used for something that matters.”


    Something that mattered. Wei shook his head. What a dark and foul place.


    “The only way you make a difference is if you kill the Collectress,” William said. “Is if you bend this place to your will. Are you going to do that? Or are you going to feel bad about the damned, and never make a difference?”


    “Enough,” Wei said. “I am no blind child. I will take this opportunity. But we will have words when this is done.”


    “Fine,” William said. “Just be ready to cross if we need you. And we’re going to need you. Some of these defenses are going to be a bitch and a half without your System.”


    Reaching his Source Anchor, Wei steeled himself. At the same time, he glanced at Rafael and the others. They didn’t react. Wei knew the lich well enough to guess that he would have reacted extremely poorly regarding what Bishop and William just did.


    But that was a good thing. That was something useful—something to lever the lich closer to Wei. He sent Rafael a message, detailing everything he just learned, and the lich froze.


    “I—what?” Rafael’s mind reeled.


    “Keep it to yourself for now,” Wei said, looking at the others. “But I thought you should know. Because these are our allies. The supposed heroes in this conflict.”


    “I—”


    “I told you because I know who you are.” Wei sighed. “And you deserve better than just a lie. If they haven’t told you…” Rafael looked on at Wei for a long moment, and seemed overwhelmed. Lost. “I understand. I am… disappointed too. I need you to focus, but understand that I will never do this without a better option, and I will never ask this of you.”


    A moment passed, and Rafael nodded. Wei hid a cynical grin. This was something, at least. Something to ward against the Trespasser’s if they tried to flip the lich in the future.


    Only after that did Wei take his leave of the scene.


    “Pardon me,” Wei said, approaching the Old Man. “Is there a private quarter I can go to—somewhere beyond prying eyes?”


    The young master gestured at all that people surrounding them, the Sinners and demons and the bit of slag that remained of Herzog. The Old Man regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, what do you need right now? You need to go to the restroom or something?”


    The young master laughed. “Nothing so severe. But I would appreciate it if there was a place to mediate reliably without prying eyes. It centers me.”


    The Old Man chuckled. “Meditate. Shit, kid, you’re serious. You know, when I was your age, I was nothing but vices, and here you are, burning me with your virtues. I’ll have an attendant take you to one of my private chambers. Should be cozy enough there.”


    “I thank you,” Wei said, sliding past as the old man waved him off. “I’m breaking from the crowd,” he announced to his group. “Elena, I need you to maintain contact with the Sinners here. Stay in touch with me and justify my absence if needed. The fewer people question my disappearance, the better.”


    “Understand,” came the reply from the queen. Though still out of it, she could muster enough focus to serve as a representative for him and his sect. It would be good for her too—death hadn’t claimed her yet.


    “Vendrian, remain on standby,” Wei said. The Scion simply replied with a grunt. Why the Collectress left her champion here made Wei suspicious, but he detected no Essence or other unseen powers afflicting the Scion. For now, Vendrian would stay passive—to avoid implicating himself.


    Only when his wife was free would the next step follow: a death to end the Collectress.


    The demonic attendants forged a path through the crowd, and more than a few eyes were fixed on him. Essence tendrils detached from their owners as they communicated, likely discussing his presence with others—perhaps even with Lein or someone connected to her. Factions nested within factions, even within a single circle, but for now, he ignored them.


    If the Duchess was going to come for him later, so be it. All he needed was to grow stronger, and soon enough, he would have that opportunity.


    As he inched toward the open hallways leading out from the great chamber, he encountered someone familiar—a short, small, green, and bestial figure who noted his approach with a smile. “Well, well, well. Don’t I just keep seeing you pop up everywhere?”


    Wei regarded Schrodinger with a smile. “Master Schrodinger, I’m glad to see you again. What has been happening in the city since we last met?”


    “Oh, you know—someone killed the Countess of Envy. Some miserable, low-level bastard punching above his weight.” The goblin laughed. “I gotta say, you put on quite a show. That one was a nasty bit of work. Too bad you’re getting in bed with nastier.” His gaze hinted at knowledge kept close to his chest.


    Leaning in, Wei murmured, “Listen, I might need your help soon. Do you have another supplier you can introduce?”


    “Yeah, sure—the Crossroads don’t suit your needs?”


    “Perhaps trust is the more important concern, and I wonder if they have my best interests at heart.”


    Schr?dinger considered the request and nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah, I think I could do that. But, out of curiosity, what are you planning to do?”


    “Build up some connections. And information. I want options,” Wei nodded.


    “Right. Options.” Schr?dinger snorted. “I get you. Well. You know the funny thing is, some other little birdies have been talking to me about options as well. Options relating to you.”


    “Me?” Wei asked.


    “Yeah. You’ve been making a lot of noise, and your enemies, well, word is that they’re looking to set up means of diplomacy as well. They might be wanting to call a truce. Or set up a trap.” the goblin shrugged. “I can get you your options. Hell, I can get you all kinds of contacts, and even more than that. But you want a word of advice son: Don’t dig too deep before you’re ready. Seen plenty of poor bastards drown.”


    Wei nodded. “I think if I wait, then I will be cut down first. I will speak to you about these options soon. For now, I have… business to attend.”


    Schr?dinger looked Wei up and down. “Business, huh? Alright. Don’t let me keep you. But you watch yourself too. Things can get complicated quick.”


    Wei nodded and continued on, following the attendant. At the same time, he noted how faint Bishop’s presence was in his mind. Good. The Trespasser was still distracted. This would prove useful—an opening for when the time came.


    “Wei,” Agnesia said. “A few more guards just got assigned to my room. I’m hearing fighting outside.”


    “Don’t worry,” Wei said. “It is part of ‘the plan.’”


    The princess paused. “It is?”


    “Apparently so.”


    A beat followed, and William spoke thereafter. “Mirror’s out.”


    “What?” Wei said. “Why? How?”


    “Because the Duke is a suspicious asshole, and he won’t keep strange gifts in his Inventory beyond a demonstration of public favor. He couldn’t refuse in public without insulting us, but now—now I’m inside the Collectress’s inner chamber, and those two are indisposed.”


    Wei hesitated before asking his next question. “Doing what?”


    “Talking, actually. About you.”


    “Me?”


    “Yeah. You wanna listen in?”


    Wei hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes. Yes, let’s hear this.”